‘American Fiction’ Review: Jeffrey Wright's Career-Best Performance Leads Nail-Biting Satire
Jeffrey Wright delivers the best performance of his career in a story which draws a timely satire on our politically correct-driven era.
Within the opening moments of American Fiction, it’s very clear that writer/director Cord Jefferson wants to push buttons by having Professor Thelonious “Monk” Ellison (Jeffrey Wright) say the N-word in an Academic context by naming the title of a book, while a [white] student takes offense at reading the book and Monk saying the word. Monk snarkily replies, “With all due respect, I got over it. I’m pretty sure you can get over it, too.” The student storms out of the class, which prompts the directorial board to put Monk on a temporary leave of absence. While the board thinks it’s the acceptable thing to do, Monk says, “Why did they have all become so goddamn delicate?”
A variation of the same scene is found in two 2023 comedies, Denys Arcand’s Testament and Bill Burr’s Old Dads. What sets American Fiction apart from these two comedies is that Jefferson has something to say about our current woes, other than “We can’t say anything anymore without being canceled.” Jefferson doesn’t push buttons for the sake of pushing buttons. Every scene has a purpose and informs Monk’s view of the world. After a series of tragic events causes Monk to become even more disillusioned by the society he lives in, he stumbles upon author Sintara Golden (Issa Rae), whose book We’s Lives In Da Ghetto has become a national bestseller. After listening to an excerpt read by Golden, Monk believes society only cares about Black stories when they reaffirm problematic stereotypes and discuss difficult subjects involving Black people.
Angered by the book’s success and the fact that no publishing house wants to buy his manuscripts, he decides to write a book that ridicules how white people perceive African-American stories called My Pafology, through the pseudonym Stagg R. Leigh. He eventually renames the book to Fuck, in the hopes that the publishing house interested in the satirical novel will walk back their proposal to acquire its rights. However, they believe it’s such a provocative title that it will become the next big thing. And it does. Now, Monk is stuck in a situation he doesn’t want to be in, having to embody the persona of Stagg R. Leigh to gain the success he has always craved.
American Fiction has already been compared to Spike Lee’s Bamboozled, which discussed the perpetuation of stereotypes through entertainment. Of course, Lee’s film is the strongest one of the two, but Jefferson’s sense of nail-biting (and often cold) humor and a career-best turn from Jeffrey Wright keep the movie engaged from beginning to end. Some of the more dramatic moments don’t always work, particularly with Monk’s highly underdeveloped relationship with his sister, Lisa (Tracee Ellis Ross), but Jefferson subverts many elements of that story in a more engaging fashion, even if bold narrative swings in its opening act don’t land as he would’ve hoped.
Monk’s relationship with his mother, Agnes (Leslie Uggams, magnificent), and brother, Cliff (Sterling K. Brown), is more fleshed-out and interesting. Uggams truly shines here in a role filled with heart and compassion, as difficult to watch as her character arc grows. Brown is also the king of emotional balance, able to be as funny as possible while balancing out that humorous side with a darker part of him waiting to come out. These parts anchor Monk’s character development to invest us in the film’s social satire, which is arguably its best part.
Jefferson pulls no punches here and calls out the [white] institutions in power that have enabled such mistreatment of Black people on page and screen for decades, while Black authors now have to engage in these stereotypes to be known as “audacious” and “real” bestsellers. Everywhere Monk looks, Black people are treated as objects of fascination and attraction in literature and film, not as human beings with stories to tell beyond the ones white people want to read and see. One of the more striking images in the film comes in the form of a montage advertising “Black Stories Month,” where clips of Antebellum, Straight Outta Compton, New Jack City, and Boyz N’ The Hood play in succession, which all depict incredibly violent and dark stories centering on Black people. And as Monk’s publisher Arthur (John Ortiz) says, no one is interested in learning about Black history or culture. People would rather read and see raw stories of injustice and violence as if the world isn’t violent enough.
What Monk wants to do with Fuck is to raise awareness of those dangerous stereotypes that have reduced Black people for centuries as objects of attraction for white readers and viewers to bathe in. However, white people fall for the ridicule, thinking everything “Stagg R. Leigh” wrote is real and raw, just as they think New Jack City and Boyz N’ The Hood is representative of how Black people behave and act in real life. All of these elements are visually represented with incredible detail through its sharp screenplay, which in turn is adapted from Percival Everett’s complex but ever-timely Erasure.
Through the figure of Monk, Wright gives the best portrayal of his storied career. His sense of comedic timing is a thing to behold, particularly during the scene where he decides to rename the book. No one knows what he wants to say or how the publishers will react, but the scene is an absolute delight in seeing how underused Wright’s comedic skills have been over the years. We already knew how great of a dramatic performer he is, but his humorous side is a revelation: sharp and perfectly composed amidst the sea of clueless white people who believe they’re helping Black people reclaim their stories when they are contributing to the spread of the offensive stereotypes that have plagued their collective imagination for centuries. Supporting performances by Ortiz, Rae, and Erika Alexander are also excellent, giving great amounts of levity for Wright to work with and making each character feel vivid and lived-in through Jefferson’s riveting screenplay.
American Fiction doesn’t pretend to know it all about our culture, but it sure does say a lot of timely stuff about it and how a gullible [white] culture would rather perpetuate stereotypes because it’s the “trendy” thing to do than listen to the activists who are making their voices heard. It’s the only “politically incorrect” satire released in 2023 to make a point, and a very smart one at that, instead of purely pushing buttons. Provoking for the sake of provoking will get you nowhere. Provoking while simultaneously raising awareness on the reductive treatment Black people face daily will make the audience think for a second and poised to make many people uncomfortable. And that’s all anyone who wants good cinema should hope for.