Let’s face it – America was not ready for Dorothy Dandridge.

Her beauty is undeniable. And, as Janet Jackson notes in her TCM tribute to Dandridge, Dorothy was a ‘triple threat’ with singing, dancing and acting in her repertoire. She just needed a chance to shine. Daughter of character actress Ruby Dandridge, Dorothy appeared in soundies and small uncredited parts throughout the 1940s. In BRIGHT ROAD (‘53) she plays a schoolteacher offering G-rated maternal love and understanding to her students in a rural school district. She really comes into prominence with Otto Preminger’s 1954 film CARMEN JONES. Sexy, sassy, fiery…dangerous, Dandridge swaggers like a gunslinger and sets the screen ablaze as the tempestuous Carmen. Her BRIGHT ROAD co-star, Harry Belafonte, is the hapless handsome soldier who tragically tangles with her. Dandridge was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actress in a Leading Role for her performance.

I rather enjoyed her next movie coming three years after CARMEN JONES, ISLAND IN THE SUN (’57). It’s sort of a PEYTON PLACE in the Caribbean with different storylines of politics, family secrets, murder and miscegenation weaving and wending their way around coconut trees and sugar cane plantations. May I offer one sticky wicket of a caveat? You’ll probably have to leave your 21st century racial perspective at home when you visit. The movie is 63 years old and does give a nod to all those antiquated racial tropes. My jaw dropped a coupla times.

Let me map out the scorecard for you. A Caribbean country is about to undergo the changeover from colony to independence. Pivotal in that change is union leader Harry Belafonte. Pre-dating Malcolm and Martin and today’s ‘social justice’ warriors, Belafonte’s character is interested in uplifting his people on the island. He has a casual relationship with Dandridge that doesn’t have enough fire to toast a marshmallow. What’s wrong with THAT picture? In the movie, he has history on the island with Joan Fontaine. There’s a tentative attempt to explore where they can go, but class and color are a bumpy road for them to hurdle (perhaps the script’s “convenient” way to keep them apart?). He’s more interested in power than romance. Gee, all that handsomeness gone to waste. I don’t know that Belafonte quite has any chemistry with Fontaine once you see Dandridge on his arm – or am I the only one blinded here? But Belafonte steps up his acting game opposite Academy Award-winner Fontaine.

Also in the cast, we have Stephen Boyd, ripe for the picking as the current governor’s son whose return to the island after months stationed in Egypt—without a woman in sight—is pointedly noted. He’s back on the island until he jets off to London. It’s said of him:

“A male, young, white, unmarried, titled and comparatively rich. Good heavens, what else do you think the girls would talk about.”

Boyd spots virginal-in-white Joan Collins at the Governor’s ball. Yes, you read that right – I said virginal and Joan Collins in the same sentence, and he’s interested. So is she. They start a slow-building romance. They don’t make themselves part of the island’s life. They’re into each other. Don’t worry, a freak-out lays ahead for them. Her brother is played by James Mason. They are heirs to the largest sugar cane plantation on the island and Mason’s a weakling. You know the type: the second son…ever second best…insecure…lots to prove. He has contempt for the islanders; suspects his wife of having an affair with the dashing, accomplished Michael Rennie; and decides to run as a political opponent to the popular Belafonte. Belafonte’s response:

“Wouldn’t it be fair to say the only reason you seek election is to revenge yourself upon the whites whom you now think despise you?”

Mason’s got a lot on his plate. (And it ain’t conch chowder).

When Dandridge first appears in the movie, she and Belafonte make a stunning couple entering the governor’s party. She immediately lets Belafonte know she has a mind of her own. She’s confident, truthful, tries to do herself some good pitching for a job in the governor’s office. She fits right into the tony setting with no apology…and wearing no maid’s uniform. She carries herself with quiet sophistication. She just is. She’s noticed by the governor’s military attaché (John Justin), and he immediately falls head over heels. I like Justin and Dandridge together. He’s not trying to keep their relationship secret. He might have one twinge of jealousy or discomfort, but all in all they’re fine together. You might think this interracial romance would be problematic as well but it’s not, compared to Belafonte and Fontaine. What’s the difference? Food for thought. But I think we all know why.

Justin: “Somewhere someone once said there’s always a point in the beginning of a love affair where a man can draw back. Where he’s still safe.”

Dandridge: “Is that what you want, to be safe?” 

Justin: “I’ve been in love. Funny, I don’t know anything about you.” Dandridge: “What would you like to know?” 

Justin: “All about you. Everything.” 

There is a moment with this couple I really like; it’s provocative in a non-provocative way. (No Spoiler!) Dandridge is lying fully clothed on Justin’s bed, reading his manuscript…with no shoes on. Big deal, right? I think it speaks tremendously to their level of intimacy. She’s at home in his space. When have you ever seen THAT in movies of the 50s…or 40s or 30s for that matter?

I like this Daryl Zanuck-production. It’s a colorful, lush, melodramatic production with racial and sexual tension, sexual restraint and good-looking people. Dorothy Dandridge is very easy to watch on film. Yes, she’s easy on the eyes, but she’s also not chewing the scenery and has a very natural presence on screen. You never see her act. I wish she’d done more. She’s not exotic. She’s just a woman…a human. She had many facets she could tap into to express different characters. I’m so glad TCM, with the guidance of acclaimed author Donald Bogle, spotlighted her career. This gets a wider audience to get to know her. No, America was not ready for Dorothy Dandridge.

But she wasn’t going to spend her time waiting for us.

Dorothy Dandridge was the first Black movie star. “She was our queen,” once said African American actress Nichelle Nichols (of Star Trek fame). Dandridge also made history with her full-blooded performance as the femme fatale in Otto Preminger’s 1954 CARMEN JONES. She became the first Black woman to earn an Oscar nomination for Best Actress and the first to grace the cover of Life magazine.

Her achievements were during a decade before the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and her nomination would mark five decades before a Black actress, Halle Berry, would win in that category. Berry also won an Emmy for her performance as the Dandridge in HBO’s Introducing Dorothy Dandridge (1999).

By the time Dandridge landed her role in CARMEN JONES, she had already paid her dues tenfold. She knew how difficult it was to be gifted, young, Black and beautiful in Hollywood. “CARMEN JONES was the best break I ever had,” said Dandridge, who tragically died at the age of 42 in 1965. “But no producer ever knocked on my door. There just aren’t as many parts or a Black actress. If I were white, I could capture the world.”

She was a child singer along with her older sister Vivian as part of The Wonder Children. Her mother, actress Ruby Dandridge, was the ultimate stage mother and so was her companion Geneva Williams, who oversaw their career. She was strict and allegedly was abusive. With family friend Etta Jones, Dorothy and Vivian became The Dandridge Sisters. They came to Hollywood around the time she was four. “I was one of those musical kids you hear about, with parts in pictures like the Marx Brothers’ A Day at the Races (‘37),” Dandridge said.

The Dandridge Sisters performed in Europe, the famed Cotton Club and appeared on Broadway in 1939 with Louis Armstrong in the short-lived Swingin’ the Dream. They also sang with African American band leader Jimmie Lunceford. And besides appearing in A DAY AT THE RACES, they were a specialty act in such movies and shorts as Snow Gets in Your Eyes (‘38), in which they perform “Harlem Yodel” and “Rhythm Rascals.”

Even as a teenager, you can’t keep your eyes off of Dandridge. She had the indescribable “It” factor. And after she went out on her own, she continued to dazzle in short musical films known as “soundies” that were produced for video jukeboxes of the era. She also had tiny roles, often uncredited, in movies, including David O. Selznick’s popular World War II film SINCE YOU WENT AWAY (‘44). Perhaps her most notable performance at this time was in the Sonja Henie musical ice-skating comedy SUN VALLEY SERENADE (‘41) in which she performs “Chattanooga Choo Choo” in a slinky black ensemble with the tap-dancing duo Harold and Fayard Nicholas.

“No film fan has ever forgotten her as a dream girl with the brothers,” said African American film historian Donald Bogle in his book Hollywood Black: The Stars, the Films, the Filmmakers.

She was all of 19 when she married Harold Nicholas, whom she had first met while performing at the Cotton Club. Their only child Harolyn was born in 1943. Nicholas had gone off to play golf the day Dandridge went into labor and he took the car keys, so she was delayed getting to the hospital to deliver the baby. Harolyn was born brain damaged and was never able to speak or even recognize Dandridge.

Dandridge believed the reason she was born mentally disabled was because of the delay in delivery. Dandridge would be haunted by guilt the rest of her life. She provided expensive care for her daughter, but when her finances became grim, Harolyn became a ward of the state. According to the TCM.com overview of BRIGHT ROAD (‘53), in which Dandridge portrays a dedicated young schoolteacher, seeing “healthy African-American children playing on the set proved too much for her, and she fled to her dressing room.”

Dandridge had always wanted to be a dramatic actress and attended the progressive Actors’ Lab in Los Angeles, becoming one of the school’s first Black students. Marilyn Monroe was also one of the students and became great friends with Dandridge. It would be considered a communist organization in the early 1950s with several members being blacklisted and the theater soon closed.

She also worked with noted coach and composer/arranger Phil Moore to develop a nightclub act, which Dandridge performed internationally to great acclaim. Under Moore’s guidance, Dandridge went from the young vivacious singer to a sultry, sexy chanteuse. Time magazine wrote about a nightclub appearance where she “came wriggling out of the wings like a caterpillar on a hot rock.” And according to a 1997 New York Times piece by Janet Maslin, when Dandridge headlined the Mocambo nightclub in L.A. in 1953, the cigarette girls actually sold copies of Alfred Kinsey’s Sexual Behavior in the Human Female.

“I think it was really the heartache over my child and the failure of my marriage that forced me to make a success out of my career,” Dandridge explained in 1954. “I had to keep busy. I threw myself into my work. It’s a wonderful therapy. You don’t have time to feel sorry for yourself.”

She landed roles in three low-budget films including TARZAN’S PERIL (‘51). Dandridge is the best thing about the adventure as Melmendi, the young, beautiful and feisty Queen of Ashuba, who is kidnapped and rescued by Tarzan. Bogle notes that Lex Barker’s Tarzan shows a lot more interest in Melmendi than he does in Jane (Virginia Huston). “Here were suggestions of an interracial romance that the studio didn’t explore.” But audiences were titillated. Ebony magazine put her on the cover with the banner: “Hollywood’s Newest Glamour Queen.’’

She would appear in a few more roles, including THE HARLEM GLOBETROTTERS (‘51) and BRIGHT ROAD opposite Harry Belafonte, who would star with her the following year in CARMEN JONES. The operetta gave her high visibility but few additional film roles. Also, she had fallen in love with Preminger, who didn’t give her the best career advice. They would work together one more time in the film adaptation of PORGY AND BESS (‘59), for which Dandridge was nominated for a Golden Globe.

“But sadly, her decline came soon after her triumph,” notes Bogle in Brown Sugar. “She realized she was a token figure within the movie colony, her position not much different than Lena Horne’s in the ‘40s. There was no great follow-up of roles to sustain her fame. Three years passed before she appeared in another film.” Dandridge once said of racial prejudice: “It is such a waste. It makes you loggy and half-alive. If it gives you nothing.”

Dandridge was drinking heavily and taking antidepressants by the late 1950s. In fact, when Dandridge married a second time in 1959, to the man who was not only abusive but would leave her broke, she was so drugged that she fell asleep at the reception. “Dandridge’s last years were lonely and sad as she struggled to find work,” said Bogle.

The only time I’ve seen the lights come up at the TCM Classic Film Festival to reveal more people crying than not was at a 2016 screening of ONE POTATO, TWO POTATO (‘64).

ONE POTATO, TWO POTATO follows the burgeoning friendship, cautious courtship and subsequent marriage of Julie (Barbara Barrie), a white woman, and Frank (Bernie Hamilton), a black man, as they navigate the prejudices surrounding them in 1960s suburban Ohio. To compound their difficulties, Julie’s ex-husband Joe (Richard Mulligan) re-enters the picture years after deserting his family. Upon discovering their daughter Ellen (Marti Mericka) is growing up in an interracial household with a new baby brother, Joe starts a custody battle that leads to a devastating finale.

ONE POTATO, TWO POTATO debuted three years before the historic Loving vs. Virginia Supreme Court case struck down anti-miscegenation laws throughout the country, the same year GUESS WHO’S COMING TO DINNER (‘67) hit theaters, which also features an interracial romance. The latter movie benefited from its Hollywood stars and studio backing, while ONE POTATO, TWO POTATO was a labor-of-love indie film with no big-name actors; in fact, director Larry Peerce moved in with his parents to save money before filming. I’ve always believed the production’s independent spirit contributed to its poignant story and performances, resulting in an unpretentious picture that’s beautiful, heartbreaking and enraging.

Speaking of heartbreaking, the film’s gut-wrenching finale stuck with me long after my first viewing. Anchored by Barrie and Mericka’s distressing performances, the scene shows Ellen being torn from her loving family because a judge ruled that it was America’s racial problem that “creates an unwholesome atmosphere for a child of a mixed marriage” (Los Angeles Times), not the upbringing itself. Which is worse: The emotional damage inflicted on a child plucked from her mother thinking it’s her fault or the perceived impropriety of an interracial household? Today, it’s obvious that only one of those options is damaging, but as ONE POTATO, TWO POTATO harrowingly shows, it wasn’t long ago that society deemed the latter as more harmful.

I found it particularly thoughtful that the film shows how Ellen is oblivious to discrimination. When the judge tries to discern whether she views her family as different, Ellen earnestly tells him that her brother is only different because he’s a boy. Her innocence makes the ending that much more painful. Love and acceptance were clearly instilled in her home life, and based upon what we see of the racist Joe, the audience knows he will teach Ellen the opposite – a shining example of how prejudice is taught and passed down through the generations.

Peerce wanted to make a movie outside the mainstream, and with 14 states still upholding antiquated miscegenation laws in 1964, he couldn’t get much further than this. The genesis for ONE POTATO, TWO POTATO came from various articles on multiracial couples and an idea penned by Orville H. Hampton. Though Ohio lifted its ban on interracial marriage in 1887, all the southern states still had laws in effect. While Peerce didn’t try to hide the kind of story they were telling from locals during filming in Painesville, Ohio, he didn’t parade it around either. In the early 1960s, miscegenation was still verboten onscreen, and when asked by Donald Bogle at TCMFF if the public’s reaction and possible censorship worried him, Peerce responded “sure,” adding, “But we were young and stupid, which kind of makes you daring, even if you don’t want to be.“

That audacious attitude paid off critically. “It speaks out resolutely on a generally shunned social theme that is a credit to the courage of its producers and the team that made it,”

The New York Times lauded. Critics praised ONE POTATO, TWO POTATO’s tactful yet frank approach to such a delicate subject matter, and the film even earned an Oscar nomination for Best Writing. However, mirroring the plot’s theme of prejudice, Peerce faced bias from Hollywood. “Wherever we went, we were told we didn’t have a chance,” he said in a New York Times interview. A Hollywood selection committee that submitted films to foreign festivals not only refused to send ONE POTATO, TWO POTATO out, they didn’t even watch the whole movie. “We think we know where they turned off the picture,” Peerce later told The Los Angeles Times, referring to the kiss Julie and Frank share.

So, Peerce traveled overseas to meet with distributors in various European cities, which led to a French committee accepting it directly into the prestigious Cannes Film Festival. “They told us we couldn’t bring this film to Europe because Europeans wouldn’t understand this problem,” he told The Los Angeles Times. “But it looks as if they were wrong.” They sure were. So wrong, in fact, that Barbara Barrie won Best Actress at Cannes and the film received an enthusiastic standing ovation.

It only took MGM studio chief Louis B. Mayer five minutes to decide he wasn’t going to promote INTRUDER IN THE DUST (’49). According to actor Claude Jarman Jr., who sat down with film historian Donald Bogle for an interview at the 2018 TCM Classic Film Festival, once Mayer heard the N-word, he decided he would not promote the film. Jarman said, “[the film] disappeared after a few years but of course MGM did too.”

Several months before Mayer’s decision, William Faulkner’s novel was a hot property that MGM eagerly snapped up. Before INTRUDER IN THE DUST was even published, Selznick International, Universal and Warner Bros. all had their eyes on making a bid. Random House sold the rights to MGM for $50k, leaving the other studios empty handed. Director Clarence Brown, whose long career as a filmmaker was winding down, wanted to make a statement with INTRUDER IN THE DUST. Brown was one of the top directors at MGM and had some recent success with THE YEARLING (‘46), also starring Claude Jarman Jr.

Faulkner’s story was an unusual property for MGM. It was one of four “race movies” released that year including PINKY, HOME OF THE BRAVE and LOST BOUNDARIES. Of the four, film writer Farran Smith Nehme said INTRUDER IN THE DUST “has aged the least. Its location filming, its unvarnished textures and sounds still feel uncannily accurate.” It tells the story of Lucas Beauchamp, a defiant black man who threatens the status quo of a small town’s white community in post-WWII Mississippi. Played by Afro-Puerto Rican actor Juano Hernandez in his first substantial film role, Lucas is accused of murdering a white man and seeks the help of Chick (Claude Jarman Jr.) whose uncle John Gavin Stevens (David Brian) is the town lawyer.

INTRUDER IN THE DUST is simply a brilliant film. It should be recognized alongside celebrated classics like TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD (’62) but history has threatened to forget this emotionally powerful and poignant story. Many different ingredients came together to create a winning recipe. First, there was Faulkner’s novel and its erudite observations on life in the deep South. Then there was the decision to film on location in Oxford, Mississippi using locals, even the mayor, as extras. Segregation was still enforced which meant the black actors in the cast, including Hernandez stayed at the home of G.W. Bankhead, the local undertaker for the black community.

Donald Bogle noted that the movie works on various levels. It’s part detective story, murder mystery, coming of age story and character study. It explores race, age and gender dynamics as well as mob mentality. The characters are well-developed and the interplay between Hernandez’ Lucas Beauchamp and Jarman’s Chick is compelling. The early scenes show them in a power struggle as they go back and forth with Chick trying to pay back Lucas for saving his life and Lucas refusing to be just another black man serving a white one. Hernandez delivers a masterful performance as Lucas. 

The decision to tell the story through Chick’s perspective allows the audience to approach the subject matter with a fresh perspective. Lucas tells Chick “You’re not cluttered. You can listen. But a man like your uncle, he ain’t got time. He’s too full of notions.” The same dynamic works with Miss Eunice Habersham (Elizabeth Patterson), the little old white lady who helps solve the mystery and stands guard at the jailhouse door. The mob can’t touch her because of deeply entrenched social norms. She also shows a wisdom that comes with old age when she says to lawyer Stevens “you’re a white man… worst of all you’re a grown white man,” in reference to his inability to fully appreciate Lucas’ case. The most problematic element of the film was Elzie Emanuel’s Aleck, a wide-eyed and confused black teenager. This characterization harkens back to a time when Stepin Fetchit types were the norm in Hollywood.

For the young Claude Jarman Jr., filming INTRUDER IN THE DUST was a learning experience. He said, “Clarence Brown was a hands-on director. If you didn’t understand something he would tell you.” The movie went on to receive critical acclaim, Faulkner himself was quite pleased with the final product and the residents of Oxford, Mississippi, who were hesitant at first, would talk about the production for years to come. The decision not to promote the film meant it wouldn’t get the audience it deserved and it was not a box office hit. Instead, it took decades for INTRUDER IN THE DUST to be rediscovered and appreciated for what it is: a treasure.

Revisit this classic in theaters: http://myt.cm/RightThing

Spike Lee’s controversial masterpiece DO THE RIGHT THING (1989) celebrates its 30th anniversary on June 30th. Over the past three decades, this film has elicited strong emotional responses from its viewers. This is a film that gets under your skin. It makes you feel something, even if that feeling is hurt or anger. The film is both unifying and polarizing. It’s unsettling but incredibly relatable and entertaining. It’s specific to a time and place but it’s also universal and timeless. But most importantly, DO THE RIGHT THING gets people thinking and talking about issues regarding race.

The idea for the film came from a conversation Lee had with actor Robert De Niro about the Howard Beach incident of 1986, when a group of black men were attacked in a neighborhood primarily made up of Italian-Americans. One black man, Michael Griffith, was struck by a car and killed when he tried to run away. Lee got right to work and finished the first draft in just two weeks. He offered the part of Sal, the Italian-American patriarch and owner of Sal’s Famous Pizzeria, to De Niro but he turned it down instead suggesting Danny Aiello for the role.

Lee wanted to make a film that would take place over one day and during the hottest time of the year. As the day gets longer and the heat rises, the racial tension in the story escalates culminating in a blazing riot scene. Filming took place in the summer of 1988 on Stuyvesant Avenue between Lexington and Quincy in the Bedford-Stuyvesant (aka Bed-Stuy) neighborhood of Brooklyn. Lee worked with cinematographer Ernest Dickerson and production designer Wynn Thomas to visually portray the sweltering heat of a summer’s day. There is a rich palette of reds, yellows and earth tones. A lighter positioned underneath the camera lens helped mimic heat on screen. The sharp camera angles used are extreme and disorienting and reflect the heightening drama. Dickerson, Thomas and Lee were inspired by classics such as THE THIRD MAN (1949), BLACK NARCISSUS (1947), THE RED SHOES (1948) and A MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH (1946).

The title comes from a saying Lee heard endless times growing up in Brooklyn. Lee reflected, “if each character thinks that they’re telling the truth, then it’s valid. Then at the end of the film, I leave it up to the audience to decide who did the right thing.” Lee’s use of classic storytelling techniques makes DO THE RIGHT THING a timeless fable. Almost every hot button topic is addressed here including racial tensions and stereotypes, inter-generational conflict, oppression and poverty. A notable exception was the enduring drug problem which Lee was ultimately criticized for leaving out.

One of the greatest strengths of the movie is the powerful ensemble cast of characters and players. Rosie Perez makes her film debut as Tina and her energetic dance number, where she gyrates to Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power”, makes for an impressive opening credit sequence. Lee himself guides the audience through the story as title character Mookie. Our hero is a liaison for the different communities (Black, Italian, Hispanic, Korean). He keeps the peace but can only do so for so long. Giancarlo Esposito, who in real life is both black and Italian-American, plays the main agitator Buggin’ Out. He reminds Mookie to “stay black” and is the most outspoken voice of dissent. Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee, husband-and-wife acting duo, play Da Mayor and Mother Sister respectively. Davis and Dee were prominent figures of the civil rights movement and that rich past is brought up in the film with countless references to Malcolm X, Martin Luther King Jr. and other notable names. Davis’ Da Mayor offers words of wisdom to the community and is as devoted to the bottle as he is Mother Sister.

Acting as a Greek Chorus of sorts is the trio ML (Paul Benjamin), Coconut Sid (Frankie Faison) and Sweet Dick Willie (Robin Harris), who remain on the sidelines but at various points comment on the goings on in the neighborhood. Samuel L. Jackson plays the smooth talking Mister Senor Love Daddy, the local radio DJ.

However, the most iconic character of the film is Radio Raheem played by Bill Nunn. Sporting a Bed-Stuy Do or Die t-shirt, he shows off his LOVE HATE brass knuckles, a reference to THE NIGHT OF THE HUNTER (1955) with a decidedly contemporary twist. Radio Raheem “fights the power” bringing disruption to the different communities with his loud music and demands for better service. Tragedy befalls his character and inevitably brings chaos to the neighborhood.

The center of tension lies in Sal’s Famous Pizzeria where an Italian-American family serve slices to a primarily black clientele. Danny Aiello plays Sal, the proud business owner who has a soft spot for the community but whose frustrations reach a boiling point that push him past the point of no return. His sons Vito (Richard Edson) and Pino (John Turturro) are always at each other’s throats and Pino in particular exemplifies white privilege and racial prejudice.

DO THE RIGHT THING had its world premiere at the Cannes Film Festival and the reviews were mixed. Roger Ebert praised Lee’s “detached objectivity” and a New York Times review called the film “a remarkable piece of work.” Critics David Denby and Joe Klein were outspoken about their fear that the film would cause black people to riot. It didn’t. But it did go on to become a landmark film. It was ranked 96th on the AFI 100 Years 100 Movies list. At the Academy Awards, Danny Aiello was nominated for Best Actor in a Supporting Role and Spike Lee for Best Original Screenplay. The failure of the Academy to nominate Lee for Best Director was considered a stunning upset. Lee would be nominated several times over the years and found vindication in winning the Best Adapted Screenplay Oscar for BlacKkKlansman (2018).

Film Historian Donald Bogle, author of the TCM and Running Press book Hollywood Black: The Stars, the Films, the Filmmakers, called DO THE RIGHT THING “a blistering and often brilliant look at America’s festering racial divisions… [it] exposed a nation’s denial of ongoing though suppressed racial conflicts.” On the 30th anniversary of the release, Spike Lee will host a party on the same block where the film was shot in Bedford-Stuyvesant. The neighborhood has since become highly gentrified, but Lee’s film lives on as a modern epic about the ongoing race struggle of a divided nation.