Neo-Blaxploitation: Does life imitate Art?

The term "Blaxploitation" refers to an era in cinema when young creatives grew tired of appearing in stereotyped roles, often relegated to positions of servitude rather than as heroes or main characters. One director noted for his impact is Melvin Van Peebles, who wrote and directed Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song, in which he portrayed a Black man asserting his power after being wrongfully accused of murder.

I came across the term "Neo-Blaxploitation" in an article by Sheridan Singleton (https://collider.com/neo-blaxploitation-explained/ ). In this article, the author highlights how the genre evolved into narratives of Black realism under influential directors like John Singleton and Spike Lee. Through films like Boyz n the Hood and Do the Right Thing, they depicted the harsh and sometimes comical realities of Black identity.

This, then, should be our key area of focus: the Black identity. In recent times, I have observed how the Black experience—expressed through music, film, fashion, and art—has often been reduced to algorithmic imitation and appropriation for capitalism and profit.

As a child of the 90s, I remember the vibrant diversity of artists and musicians in the commercial hip-hop scene. Back then, the line between commercial and underground was thin; lyrical, conscious, and even psychedelic artists shared stages with gritty, risqué, and materialistic rappers. It was all OUR music.

Fast forward to today, and much of what I hear on the radio is dominated by rappers glorifying brands and violence. While I acknowledge that this is all art, it raises the question: why do we seem to be caricatured and "created" for consumption? In my previous article, I referenced the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, emphasizing that words are active, shaping realities and ways of thinking.

In 2018, Wanda Thompson discussed "Blackfishing," describing a phenomenon where economically dominant cultures, instead of appreciating Black culture from the sidelines, seek to own and participate in it without embracing the full experience of Blackness and the systemic discrimination that accompanies it.

We can conclude that Black culture has often been appropriated for profit and aesthetic purposes by those in positions of economic dominance, who exploit Black appeal to further their own agendas—frequently without the active or informed participation of the Black individuals involved.

Thus, I propose that the involvement of Black people in art has been monetized to the point that our music and art are algorithmically tailored to fit a narrow set of characteristics. As a result, we often appear as gangsters in music videos, brandishing guns and discussing violence.

What concerns me is that our own stories are being used against us, confining us mentally, socially, and economically.