How Do We Reckon With This: Hays Code Pt 3

Last week there was this huge controversy with the winner of the Kentucky Derby. Apparently, this poor horse was on too many of the wrong drugs. Fox News had the horse’s owner on to make his case and in response, he had the most current, and buzzy, explanation: he was the real victim, and Cancel Culture was the culprit. To be honest, I think the term and the “culture” (humor me) surrounding this phenomenon is becoming trite. However, it is permeating some of the spaces I go to decompress from my regular life, Film Instagram has been loudly immersed in this topic for almost a year, and the third part of my Hays Code post is like four months overdue. So, I thought I’d cross two topics off my list and conclude the Hays Code series with an internal debate about Cancel Culture as a reckoning with cinema’s (in this case Hollywood’s) problematic past. If you missed part one and part two of this series, I recommend going back to read them. It’s not 100% necessary but it does provide a deeper context to the ideas I’m going to be writing about. Does this make me part of the stale and tedious conversation about this topic? Yes, yes it does; but, I have only made three Instagram posts since March 31st so the more relevant and on-trend I can be on that platform the better. And, also, the topic is of course very easily married to my outstanding one anyway.

Historically speaking a lot of elements prominent in older films are problematic. They just are. This admission is really important to acknowledge, whether you want to see films “canceled” or not. It’s problematic that Anna May Wong’s Hollywood career was held back by racism—racism that was quite literally coded into the production of every film she performed in. It’s problematic that the only reason Rita Hayworth (born Margarita Carmen Cansino) didn’t have a similarly stunted career was that she was able to be anglicized. The litany of things that happened to Hattie McDaniel in life (and to her estate/remains after death) is inexcusable and racist, as well as sexist. These may have been “behind camera” actions in the minds of most, but if there is anything to take away from this three-part series, it’s that it was never limited to that. The DNA of movies as we know them was corrupted by the racist, homophobic, sexist, and otherwise xenophobic behavior that happened behind the scenes as well. Anna May was not permitted to play a love interest to a white man—thus yellow face was born. Hattie and other African-Americans could ONLY take roles that were subservient to white characters or their films couldn’t be released, thus the stereotypical roles for Black performers were born. Rita Hayworth underwent mental and physical abuse to appear acceptable to a White audience, thus the whitewashing of actresses was born. These codes ruled screenplays for decades. Three decades. That’s a powerful code to be enacted so early into the life of an art form. There was never a chance at avoiding long-lasting residual effects. When the core is rotten should we ignore it…or should we question and change it, loudly?

The Code did fall in the late 60s. It fell to the counter-culture—a group of loud filmmakers who grasped budding technology and used it to create raw films American audiences hadn’t seen before. Easy Rider, Taxi Driver, and The Graduate all asked and tried to answer real societal questions; Bonnie and Clyde, Badlands, and The Godfather were revolutions—they dared to give humanity to characters who would never have been gifted it before. Old habits die hard, though, and the reality is these filmmakers were more or less still forced to operate within a studio system that had Stockholmed itself into antiquated ideas about women, BIPOC, and LGBTQ+ individuals. Consequently, straight white men were given the budgets to make their films and other groups really weren’t. LGBTQ+ topics stayed largely taboo unless negatively stereotyped. “Women’s films” were laughed out of the room (save for Jane Fonda who used the privilege she had from being born to a Hollywood heavyweight and made room for herself and others). Black actors were still denied the creative freedoms, and successes, of their White counterparts—until they birthed a new genre entirely their own. America’s cinema had turned a corner in a lot of ways but it retained blind spots because no filmmaker comes without internal biases, not even the greats. And while the filmmakers of the New Hollywood era changed the cinematic landscape for the better, they left a lot of the old elements in their movies. Elements that deserve to be scrutinized, no matter how much we love the other parts of their art. It isn’t fair to expect deeply ingrained conventions to be entirely eliminated within one generation but art is obliged to be critiqued and reevaluated as society progresses. It’s okay to love many of these movies. I know I do. Still, it’s necessary to reexamine them the way marginalized people are.

Answers are hard to come by here. Selective canceling is certainly a thing, Howard Stern still has a career after all, and sometimes the fervency of guilty consciences makes a mockery of the voices expressing genuine thought and valid points. It’s SO easy to just want to check out, too. That is irresponsible and incorrect though. To say that politics shouldn’t be part of film is to ignore history. Politics has ALWAYS been part of film, American or otherwise, and it has always influenced Hollywood decisions. As viewers, we need to be truthful about this. We need to acknowledge and correct the wrongdoing that media has perpetuated throughout the years, even if it makes you uncomfortable to do so. Criticism of outdated tropes is important. We owe the harmed artists of the past, as well as all of the artists of the future, this public reckoning because while it is important to preserve and appreciate art, it is essential to actively motivate its growth.