Tyler Perry has become a household name in the eight years following the release of "Madea's Family Reunion" (2006). His films have collectively grossed around $700 million worldwide. As a result, the actor/director/producer/screenwriter/playwright/Mr. I-seek-no-help-even-though-I-clearly-need-it, has created an ever-expanding empire around his name. Although Perry has his share of haters, he remains one of the wealthiest men in Hollywood.
I choose to watch Tyler Perry movies whenever they come out, not because I've enjoyed his past work, but because I hope that whichever one I'm watching will finally be the first good Tyler Perry movie. So far, I've always been disappointed. However, a glimmer of hope keeps me going back to the theater - even though I know I'll probably shake my head while Perry makes a profit from people like me and continues to defile the art of filmmaking.
One day, he'll come up with something good ... one day. Wait, who am I kidding? Let's consider the far more likely scenario. Perry will never ever make a good, critically acclaimed film. Not because he can't - who am I to judge that - but because he has no incentive to do so. You know what they say: "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." He's already made hundreds of millions of dollars from movies that suffer from bad acting, lazy writing and oversimplified cinematic dogmas.
So what do people like about the parasitic piece of blockbuster garbage that is your average Tyler Perry film? For one, people laugh. Perry, if nothing else, is a master of slapstick comedy. He essentially floods his films with easy comedic fodder, like stereotypical characters and eccentric line delivery.
In addition, he has established for himself a particular audience whom he never fails to satisfy. I would describe this niche audience as a conservative black Christian one. He's created a pseudo-monopoly by attracting fans that are perhaps less inclined to go out to watch typical Hollywood movies. To these fans, Perry's movies collectively serve as a reflection of their own personal lives and experiences, something no other Hollywood movies can offer.
Perry doesn't try to surprise his viewers. He uses film to confirm already-established beliefs by delivering public service announcements from the perspective of black church politics. In taking that simplistic approach, he often demonizes characters that don't fit in the paradigm of the culture that he chooses to represent. He oversimplifies black culture as a whole and ultimately fails to realize that there aren't always quick solutions to problems that arise in black families and communities.
The politics of Perry's movies work to normalize values that are detrimental to the otherwise improving dynamic of the conservative black Christian doctrine. For instance, he resorts to punishing the villains in movies like "Temptation" (2013) by simply giving them HIV. This directly counteracts attempts to raise HIV awareness and to decrease discrimination against black homosexuals.
Perry is currently a highly visible, and therefore influential, black American filmmaker in terms of the ease with which he can launch and complete the process of making and releasing a movie. This power comes with a social responsibility to create content that is both uplifting and concordant with current national politics of acceptance. By disregarding this, Perry does more harm than good to his black fans. He must be stopped! But between now and whenever that happens, I will sadly keep watching what Spike Lee describes as "coonerybaffoonery," and I'll talk about how awful it is every time I do. Such is the life of your typical Tyler Perry hater.
Nash Simpson is a senior majoring in English. He can be reached at Nash.Simpson@tufts.edu.
