Black Parasite: The Statement
“I’m the Black Forrest Gump” - Dave Chappelle
Standing in the green room of the Atlanta Comedy Theater doing my absolute best to keep my composure standing in front of Dave Chappelle. I think I’m doing a good job at it. He doesn’t suspect that I’m one of his biggest fans, I’m currently hanging on his every word. He said he met Muhammad Ali when he was 2-years-old, there’s a photo out there somewhere and he called himself Black Forrest Gump in the process. It’s got to be a sign he said, ‘Black Forrest Gump’ in this very moment, in my presence. The very same words that inspired Black Parasite.
Dave Chappelle, 2 with Muhammad Ali
According to The Internet, in 1997, Chappelle wrote and starred in a short film, “Black Forrest Gump” IMDB says the short was directed by Gina Prince Bythewood. That’s right, Ms. Love & Basketball, herself. Black Forrest Gump tells the story of a man who’s lived an incredible life: he unintentionally became responsible for the Rodney King beating, the L.A. riots and O.J. Simpson’s ALLEGED murder of his wife. Genius! Sounds like something you’d see on Chappelle’s Show. A black version of an Oscar-winning movie, sounds like a winning formula to me. What if I applied that same thing to another Oscar-winning movie?
When I saw Parasite for the first time and the idea immediately became obvious. Two families: one rich, one poor, one white, one black (or maybe both are black?). The rich are parasites off the poor for their labor, the poor are parasites off the rich for their amenities and opportunities. The white are parasites off the black for their culture and style. Why hasn’t anyone done this before? Well, it’s April 2020, no one is doing anything right now. As I began writing, more themes became evident with the changing times. Jalaiah Harmon had finally gotten overdue credit for creating a viral dance that was stolen by larger white TikTokers. White guilt was at an all-time in the summer of 2020. It was very easy to poke at a white corporations lack of diversity back then. And, of course, there were the murders of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd. All of these events were effortlessly woven into the original script. The casting went even smoother: Rodney Perry said yes. Lace Larrabee said yes. Vanessa Fraction said yes. Cocoa Brown said yes. Mo’Nique said no (her daddy said no on her behalf). An all-star cast, nonetheless. Then…I learned the art of filmmaking
"I ended up working for like, 3 years on this movie and this was gonna be my feature and I was financing it from working at a video store. So, which means, I would like, get $200 or so, and then we’d go off and shoot for the weekend. And then we’d run out of money and I would go back to work again and then eventually we would just keep piecing it together…” - Quentin Tarantino
“After about 3 years, I had started processing some of the footage and seeing exactly what I had. And guess what? I did not have AT ALL what I thought I had!…It was amateurish…and not in a charming way either…Now, there were good things about it. You could tell I made it…it had my spirit. My personality, but the thing is, though, this was gonna be the thing that set me up and I had worked 3 years on it. I was able to look at in a realistic way after being horribly depressed for a little bit. BUT, only for a short little bit…This was my film school.” - Quentin Tarantino
I learned a lot. Filmmaking, just like stand-up, just like anything is something you learn how to do. I learned there is no such thing as a bad movie. Making a movie is an impossible task and even the “worst” movies should be applauded just for the fact that it got done. I wish I had more time. I wish I had more resources. I wish I had more money to film. I wish I had a lot more money. I told myself I wasn’t going to be that filmmaker that has a pile of unproduced scripts, but if this field is something you’re pursuing, it’s impossible not to be that filmmaker. That’s the process. Spike Lee taught me that. Woody Allen (I know, I know) taught me that. All of my inspirations are so problematic.
Like Quentin Tarantino, I never got to finish my first short film. The entire back half of the original script went unproduced. Like Woody Allen feels about most of his movies, the final project was not what I ended up writing.
Luckily, no feet were harmed in the making of this project (neither were any adopted daughters)
Like Tarantino, I wrote a final act kill scene. In hindsight, I have no idea how I was supposed to execute that. In the original script, I was able to weave in themes of cultural appropriation, which could be directly tied to the plot of the short. Other stories of stolen and uncredited art from black people (including Living Single & Jack Daniels) made it all fit together perfectly (again, white guilt, at an all-time high). I was able to tie in some history of my hometown, Springfield, Massachusetts and connect that to the story too. The puzzle pieces fit together too effortlessly…not effortlessly, it took some work to get there, but once I found a way, the path was seamless. I called myself a genius. Even though I never filmed the epic kill scene, even though the final short only covers the first half of the original script, even though the final 16 pages of the script were unreleased, I still did the impossible. The story and those who were gracious enough to help me tell it, I’m forever indebted and grateful. To you, I hope you guys share the same sentiment: that we did the impossible.
-Mr. Dominic Smith
