It took me less than two weeks but at last, I got to quietly watch Dear White People. I will be totally sincere and say that when I first heard about it, I did have a bit of an eye rolling moment of, “Oh God, here comes more SJW, virtue-signaling, BLM propaganda that Netflix is going to bank on” because after all — if it’s a hit, trendy in pop culture and there’s profit to be made in promoting it, it will be exploited and used as bait.
However, as I sat to watch it from the first episode on, it was time to throw the preconceived notions out the window, engage the material objectively to really make a fair verdict and deservingly so.
As far as the acting goes, solid across the board. To the production and directing crew, you picked a pretty robust lineup of potential bigger screen actors and actresses.
As far as pacing — the first half feels medium/slow cooked but once you get to episode 6 up to the conclusion, you can see that the creator had more emotional investment for the second half — as not only does the pace pick up to the point that the episodes just zoom by but so does character development.
When it comes to the subject material regarding growing up as one of predominantly African ancestry, unless you knew people that can tell you what it was like for them to grow up in that kind of environment or if you’re someone of that demographic, you may feel at a sense of loss because of the difference there is. That is where I had kind of step back and ask questions to friends and loved ones of that background to see if some of this stuff is true or if it’s a little stretched out for cinematic purposes. You’d be surprised how much truth the show actually showed. Nevertheless, kudos to all the characters in the show who did not allow the cards dealt at them define them but rather let their sense of will, passion and desire set the stage for who they are and that is paramount to solid writing. Some of them grew up with bad situations but the way they handle themselves has, “my story starts pretty weak but don’t cry for me nor pity me” and that means something.
What I did like the most about this show was the sense of humanity. Unlike some situations or even how mainstream media likes to churn up hits, it did not make the main characters or supporting cast look like picture-perfect, invincible black saviors who were totally untouchable and that only white people were guilty of hose manure-like behavior. No matter who you liked out of the main cast, they all possessed imperfection of all shades and some things don’t come to light until later even if some elements you can smell a mile away…just like I did.
In respect to others who have been in pre-contemplative, contemplative or preparation state in regards to watching this show, out of respect to you, the show’s workers and even for friends of mine who have seen it and don’t want me to say anything or accidentally ruin anything because they themselves have not finished it, this review will not have spoilers, even of the ending itself.
However, my reaction towards the ending is in one expression pulled out of a Pillar album — Where Do We Go From Here? We can even get all Robert Johnson on this and say that it does paint the picture of “standing at the Crossroads, down on my knees”.
This has been written to you by a light skinned Puerto Rican born and raised in Williamsburg, Brooklyn during a pre- and post-9/11 NYC — when it was rugged and a bit tough but still rich in culture and small local businesses that everyone enjoyed and thrived with until the suits, ties and trust fund kids came knocking and going pilgrim on us. Today, my neighborhood, which I visit every year when flying up from Tampa, Florida, is a shell of its former self. I hate to break it to you but when they turn a local popular Cafe Bustelo into an actual shop because these hipsters are too stupid to look in a bodega, dollar store, Food Bazaar or a Walgreens, while also forcing a Starbucks in a neighborhood that knows weak, overpriced coffee when they see it, you should start thinking.
