Josephine Baker is such a joy to watch. She exudes grace, joy, and energy, and it was a treat to see her sing and dance a couple of times here. Hey, I could watch her skip among the Roman ruins in Dougge, Tunisia with the little kids for hours, and wish the action had remained there longer. What's weird and damn unfortunate is that despite her character being so poised and speaking French fluently, she's still referred to as a "savage" and a "wild animal" many times by the visiting Frenchmen, who are there to help an author get over his writer's block. They hatch an idea to fake an interracial love affair to help with the novel and also to make the author's wife back at home jealous. Meanwhile, she's flirting up a storm with a visiting Maharaja, who is unfortunately played by a white actor in blackface, with similar intentions.
While the film broaches at least the idea of miscegenation, so much so that Joseph Breen refused to pass the film in America (which is laughable in a painful way, and yet so predictable), it really has the two minority characters being used as pawns, and little more. Meanwhile, it has a painful dose of cultural condescension and outright racism in the script, something I haven't seen in other French vehicles for Baker. In an effort to display her inferiority and need of "civilization," they show her needing to learn basic arithmetic and shoveling food into her mouth coarsely, using her hands. Not surprisingly, it all leads to the old "East is East and West is West" crap, and a conclusion that Baker is better off left "uncivilized" in Africa. Argh.
You might wonder about my rating given the attitude the film takes, but the reason for it is simple: Josephine Baker. She's elegant in her singing, radiant in her evening gown, and owns the dance floor, jumping into a musical performance at the end which, while a bit Busby Berkeley-lite, had its moments even before she got out there. The film puts her down as a "savage" but her presence continually contradicts that, and there simply is no comparison to the menial roles given to black performers in America during this period. See it for Baker, and try to ignore the rest.
While the film broaches at least the idea of miscegenation, so much so that Joseph Breen refused to pass the film in America (which is laughable in a painful way, and yet so predictable), it really has the two minority characters being used as pawns, and little more. Meanwhile, it has a painful dose of cultural condescension and outright racism in the script, something I haven't seen in other French vehicles for Baker. In an effort to display her inferiority and need of "civilization," they show her needing to learn basic arithmetic and shoveling food into her mouth coarsely, using her hands. Not surprisingly, it all leads to the old "East is East and West is West" crap, and a conclusion that Baker is better off left "uncivilized" in Africa. Argh.
You might wonder about my rating given the attitude the film takes, but the reason for it is simple: Josephine Baker. She's elegant in her singing, radiant in her evening gown, and owns the dance floor, jumping into a musical performance at the end which, while a bit Busby Berkeley-lite, had its moments even before she got out there. The film puts her down as a "savage" but her presence continually contradicts that, and there simply is no comparison to the menial roles given to black performers in America during this period. See it for Baker, and try to ignore the rest.