Clive C. Nwonka & Anamik Saha (eds.), Black Film British Cinema II, London, Goldsmisths Press, 2021, 248 p.
Reviewed by Frédéric Lefrançois, Université des Antilles
Edited by Clive Chijioke Nwonka (University College London) and Anamik Saha (University of Leeds), Black Film British Cinema II offers a richly informed and multifaceted examination of Black British film culture, tackling issues of race, representation, and diversity within the broader socio-political framework of the United Kingdom. Published in 2021, the book draws on the 2017 Black Film British Cinema Conference that was held at Goldsmiths, University of London. This volume revisits and expands upon the landmark 1988 publication Black Film British Cinema, updating the discourse for a contemporary context marked by heightened debates around diversity and systemic inequality.
Thematic Exploration of Diversity and Representation
The book situates itself within the enduring debates about the politics of representation, a theme central to Black British film since its inception. In the introduction, Nwonka and Saha deftly contextualize the discourse within recent controversies, such as the 2020 BAFTA nominations scandal, which spotlighted the persistent racial disparities in the British film industry. This discussion underscores how diversity rhetoric often serves as a superficial gesture rather than addressing structural inequities. As they argue, “the presence of blackness within non-black film… speaks to the continuing contestation over how blackness is valorized socially” (p. 12). Such critiques resonate with the work of Stuart Hall, whose foundational essay “New Ethnicities” (1988) is revisited throughout the volume to frame the ongoing challenge of reimagining Black identity in film.
Sarita Malik’s essay, “Black Film British Cinema: In Three Acts,” opens Part I, charting the historical trajectory of Black British cinema. Malik identifies three distinct phases of development, emphasizing how institutional shifts and cultural policies, such as the rise of creative diversity initiatives, have both facilitated and constrained Black filmic expression. Malik’s analysis illuminates the structural barriers that continue to impede authentic representation, while also recognizing moments of radical potential within Black cinematic practices. She reflects that “the ongoing contestations and challenges that Black filmmakers encounter” are deeply entwined with wider societal struggles (p. 40).
Kara Keeling’s contribution, “On Digitopia and Neoliberal Multiculturalism,” examines how digital media technologies shape contemporary Black film. By juxtaposing the works of John Akomfrah and Arthur Jafa, Keeling critiques the commodification of diversity in neoliberal frameworks, positioning film as both a site of resistance and complicity. This essay highlights how technological advances can simultaneously empower and marginalize, particularly within racialized economies of media production. Keeling provocatively notes that “the digital regime offers both an opportunity and a trap for Black filmmakers navigating global economies” (p. 69).
Aesthetic Innovations and Intersectionality
Part II shifts the focus to aesthetics, underscoring the formal and narrative innovations that distinguish Black British film. The roundtable discussion on Steve McQueen’s work—featuring Clive Nwonka, Richard Martin, Ozlem Koskal, and Ashley Clark—is a standout contribution. The dialogue examines McQueen’s films, including Hunger (2008) and 12 Years a Slave (2013), emphasizing his unique ability to marry political commentary with formal rigor. The discussion also critiques McQueen’s exceptionalism, questioning whether his success signals broader institutional change or merely reinforces the marginalization of less celebrated Black filmmakers. As Martin observes, “McQueen’s use of duration is a testament to his ability to provoke and unsettle audiences in ways rarely seen in mainstream cinema” (p. 85).
Richard T. Rodríguez’s exploration of Isaac Julien’s Looking for Langston (1989) is another highlight. Rodríguez situates Julien’s work within a transatlantic queer Black aesthetic, demonstrating how his films transcend national and cultural boundaries. This essay enriches the volume by emphasizing the intersectionality of race, sexuality, and global cultural exchange. Rodríguez asserts, “Julien’s cinematic practice dismantles rigid borders, offering a Queer Black Atlantic perspective that challenges both racial and sexual orthodoxies” (p. 71).
Rabz Lansiquot’s chapter provides a deeply personal and critical reflection on the circulation of violent imagery in Black digital media. By interrogating the psychological and emotional toll of such representations, Lansiquot advances a compelling argument for liberatory Black aesthetic practices that move beyond the spectacle of trauma. They write, “Black aesthetic responses must navigate the pervasive trauma inflicted by such images while striving for spaces of collective healing and liberation” (p. 91).
Institutional Barriers and Policy Critiques
Part III and IV delve into the institutional and policy dimensions that shape Black film. So Mayer’s essay on curatorial practices highlights how gallery spaces have historically offered alternative modes of production and distribution for Black filmmakers, countering mainstream narratives that deem Black cinema unmarketable. Mayer’s call for a comprehensive archival history of Black film distribution echoes the volume’s broader commitment to recovering marginalized histories. They argue, “Without a visible history of distribution, the myth of Black cinema’s market failure persists, perpetuating exclusion” (p. 151).
Shelley Cobb and Natalie Wreyford’s quantitative analysis of the UK film industry starkly reveals the exclusion of BAME women from key creative roles. Their identification of patterns such as “tokenism” and “homophily” provides a robust framework for understanding how systemic barriers perpetuate inequality, aligning with Tess Skadegård Thorsen’s critical assessment of Danish diversity policies as a comparative study. Cobb and Wreyford conclude, “The twin oppressions of sexism and racism continue to render BAME women invisible in British cinema’s power structures” (p. 167).
Contributions to Contemporary Discourse
A key strength of Black Film British Cinema II lies in its multidisciplinary approach, blending academic essays, practitioner reflections, and data-driven analyses. This diversity of perspectives not only enriches the discourse but also situates the volume as a crucial resource for scholars, policymakers, and practitioners alike. By engaging with historical and contemporary frameworks, the book underscores the persistent challenges of achieving genuine diversity in the film industry while celebrating the creative and intellectual contributions of Black filmmakers.
Conclusion
Black Film British Cinema II is an indispensable contribution to the study of race, representation, and cinema. It balances critical interrogation with hopeful possibilities, reminding readers of the transformative potential of Black film as a site of resistance and innovation. The volume’s rigorous engagement with the politics of diversity challenges superficial narratives, demanding a deeper reckoning with the structural inequities that define the British film industry. For anyone interested in the intersections of race, culture, and media, this book is essential reading.