I’m interested in what you all think of this, not least because there is probably some experience of student films produced on a tiny budget on this blog. The only reference I can find to it here was a comment from Michael earlier this year about the problems getting the movie released because the songs used on the soundtrack had not been licensed. In any case, this was made by Charles Burnett (of To Sleep With Anger and Glass Shield) for $10K in 1977. It has only just been released on DVD and it is a revelation. Done in documentary style, in black and white, the camera just captures life in South Central LA, presumably contemporaneously, though there is a 1940s almost rural feel to many of the scenes. It is unlike any depiction of urban African American life I have seen (and of course The Wire is much on my mind right now). There is a joyousness on the part of the characters, especially the children who are playing in and on vacant lots, railyards, rooftops and so on, and Burnett shows a deep affection for his characters. It is just poor people working away on their lives (one of the best lines has a character actor explain that he is not poor because he gives stuff away to the Salvation Army). The explosion of films in the 1990s about South Central gang warfare seems a million miles away. The DVD comes with a commentary track and three other Burnett shorts, all worth watching. The first, dating from 1969 looks like a study for Killer of Sheep. Oh, and the soundtrack is incredibly good.
But my real question is: how can a film maker this good have made so few films of note? Apart from Killer and the two I mentioned above, it is a very thin resume including a fair amount of forgettable TV.
I have wanted to see this for years; I recall in my undergraduate days trying–since I booked “art” films on campus–to get a hold of a copy and being stymied. Since then, I’ve kept an eye out but it was one of those lost films I’d read repeatedly about but could never see. Rather than rent it now, I’m going to buy it–so within a month or so, I hope to respond about the film itself. (That great soundtrack is, I read, the reason for the film’s long disappearance–couldn’t afford the rights for the music…)
I’d note that David Gordon Green has talked about how influential Burnett’s film was on his own early work–check out George Washington (and the short films on that dvd)?
Why was Burnett sidelined? A few critics I’ve read on African-American film history point to he and Julie Dash as instances where, when not commercially mainstream, African-American filmmakers found it terribly hard to get projects funded. John Sayles carved his niche for smaller films roughly at the same time as Burnett, but he doctored other scripts to build his rep; Spike Lee was/is a master at executive producing, able to connect the independence of his vision to fundraising which affirmed his control. Burnett rode in right before the ’80s wave of “indie” films broke, so didn’t get a chance to capitalize on a (somewhat) broader set of opportunities which came in the next decade. (‘Though Julie Dash *did* produce her film in this period. There are probably also factors about the naturalist aesthetic–which maybe didn’t/doesn’t sell as well.) I vaguely recall that Burnett’s potential resume would be much grander, far more interesting–but project after project collapsed or never came together.
Does he not discuss it–or is it not probed–in any of those commentaries?
Having watched the movie once with the commentary off, I only watched the first 20 minute again with it on, so if there is discussion of Burnett’s career, I missed it. Watching again what would be a good reason to own the movie.
I can’t help but feel that Killer of Sheep has been overly romanticized (its troubled history overwhelms its modest achievements; the film’s legend undermining the film itself). The visual style shows great promise (I wouldn’t describe it as documentary style but something closer to poetic realism; the black and white photography is very assured as is Burnett’s use of the camera), but the screenplay is pedestrian and the sound design and execution a mess. I might argue Burnett relies far too much upon the soundtrack of rhythm and blues standards, particularly the songs of Dinah Washington, to accomplish what his script and his actors cannot. Still, Sheep evokes a kind of melancholy–its loving honesty generates a sadness as to how few films work to capture black American working-class existence. Burnett’s handling of the child actors is quite marvelous; there is a joy in almost every shot of the children playing in the street, on roofs, in vacant lots. Shots of kids jumping from rooftop to rooftop were particularly evocative (lyrical even), and while the slaughterhouse scenes are subtle, a little goes a long way. In fact, there is one moment where three boys boisterously tear down the street and the film immediately, shockingly cuts to a shot of sheep hanging on hooks ready for flaying. It is a remarkable, salient moment.