During 10 years of reporting on entertainment and media, I’ve had a front-row seat for many important stories. I knew that African-Americans were bitter about their lack of real power in Hollywood. But until I happened upon the Black Academy Awards show last year, I never understood how sharply blacks and whites in the entertainment industry were divided. And with the Oscars snubs this year, the differences are even sharper. (Bassett was overlooked in the hit “Waiting to Exhale.” Music phenom Kenny [Babyface] Edmonds, who produced the movie’s hit soundtrack, was shunned, too.)
On the surface, African-Americans seem to have it made in showbiz. There are success stories like Oprah Winfrey and Whitney Houston. But for black artists, producers and businessmen, that’s not enough anymore. They complain about the low budgets they’re handed by the studios, the limited acting roles and drug-hazed urban shoot-’em-up films that Hollywood typically served up in recent years. Black movies generally yield among the highest profits on each dollar spent, and a TV upstart like WB Network was launched with several black-themed shows. But is there an African-American who can green-light, or approve, the average film? Nope. Can you find black agents at the big talent agencies? Only if you look real hard.
Even a Bill Cosby, whose part-ownership of his shows was unusual by anyone’s standards, runs into hurdles. When he tried to acquire NBC from GE, investment bankers and industry execs dismissed him almost out of hand. Some of them told me they didn’t take him seriously. Folks, this is a business where anyone with cash is taken seriously! Was it race? Some of Cosby’s acquaintances say that’s what he believes.
Of course, there’s been progress. But, even then, there are problems. In 1994, Time Warner named as its president Richard Parsons, a successful black banker. But the execs who run Time Warner’s crucial HBO, Warner Bros. studio and Warner Music don’t report to him. At Disney Co. chairman Michael Eisner appointed Dennis Hightower chief of TV and telecom operations, making him the industry’s second highest-ranking black exec. But detractors want Eisner to dump Hightower, arguing he has no TV-biz experience. So far, Eisner has resisted. Late last year he told me: “I believe in diversity as a social and practical issue. Diversity breeds creativity.”
Then there’s the question of getting a piece of the action. Consider the hit film “Waiting to Exhale.” Terry McMillan, the black author of the book and a coscreenwriter, wanted a black producer for the film. But she says two studios made it clear they wouldn’t back the film with a black producer. Black music entrepreneurs also struggled unsuccessfully for control of the soundtrack. Babyface wrote and produced almost every song on the chart-topping album. But the music was released on Arista, not on the LaFace Records label, a venture co-owned by Babyface and partner Antonio (L.A.) Reid, and Arista. The reason: Whitney Houston, one of several divas on the soundtrack, is under contract with Arista.
Is racism a villain? In part, sure, it’s likely. But it’s mostly clubbiness. In this backstabbing culture, many Hollywood execs just seem more comfortable dealing with knife wielders in their own gene pool. Conventional wisdom also says it’s all just business: black films get lower budgets because of the limited audience. Bob Johnson, the black entrepreneur who controls Black Entertainment Television, has concluded that the only answer is to start a black-owned studio. His plan is to court top black actors as partners and go to Wall Street for financing. Johnson hasn’t had much luck, though. “It’s a tough sell,” Johnson laments. At the end of the day, the bottom line is this. If black stars want more control, they must begin to invest directly in black independent projects-or stop complaining about who gets nominated for the Oscars.
