Woman of the Year (1942)

It's easy to feel there’s nothing salvageable from the past. That much of what’s preceded us, the conformity, suffocating oppression, and intolerance is best discounted and forgotten. That there is enough strife and turmoil in today’s world that outweighs any relevance or similarities a previous decade or generation may have on our current reality.

I look directly to Hollywood, specifically old Hollywood, where delineations and labels are in black and white, both literally and figuratively. Awful, demeaning stereotypes are ubiquitous in early-era films like the egregious The Jazz Singer and The Birth of a Nation. But even further down the line, I’m left with a sour taste in my mouth whenever I encounter racism or subjugation in what are known as "classic films.”  One does not have to venture too far into the old vault to see the awful portrayal of Native Americans in The Searchers or Mickey Rooney’s gross display of a Chinese landlord in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.  I find it hard to compartmentalize these offensive bits when doing my own investigation into film history.  While there is great quality and originality, it will always be interwoven into these totally unacceptable trends and tendencies.  There is no escaping it.