In “American Fiction” (Prime Video), Cord Jefferson’s 2023 satire, protagonist Monk Ellison (Jeffrey Wright) is in a bind. The author’s books aren’t selling all that well, he’s lost his job at a California university, and when he comes home to visit his overachieving Boston/Martha’s Vineyard family, his sister (Tracy Ellis Ross) unexpectedly dies. He also discovers that his aging mother (the wonderful Leslie Uggams) may have dementia and may need assisted living, which he may be stuck paying for, as his irresponsible brother (Sterling K. Brown) is unable to help out financially. What’s a fellow to do?
Hark! What light burns in yonder Boston book festival? There, Monk walks into a talk being given by Sintara Golden (Issa Rae), whose debut novel, “We’s Lives in Da Ghetto,” is being fawned over by a white moderator. When Sintara—an Oberlin-educated former publishing assistant—cries, “Where is OUR representation?” Monk shakes his head. But then he gets to thinking, and thinking some more.
Having just watched a bit of “Get Rich or Die Tryin’” on a hotel TV, he disdainfully pumps out a story about urban suffering under the pseudonym Stagg R. Leigh, titles it “My Pafology,” and gets his reluctant agent (John Ortiz) to send it to publishers. Their reaction? Ecstatic.
In no short order, “Stagg Lee” gets a huge advance, the book becomes a best seller, and he is offered a lucrative movie deal. “My Pafology” (now renamed “Phuck” by Monk himself) is also up for an award in a Boston show where Monk is one of the judges. Will he ever come clean with his fellow judges, or Corinna, his new girlfriend (Erika Alexander), or his family about who the author is ? The weird but spectacular ending explains it all.
The funniest part of “American Fiction” is the reaction of the largely white publishing community who swoon over Monk’s “credentials”—he poses as an escaped Black convict who’s inside for murder. The not-so-effective parts are the movie’s fairly uninteresting subplots; Monk’s romance with Coraline; Lorraine the housekeeper (Myra Lucretia Taylor) and Maynard, her new boyfriend (Raymond Anthony Thomas); and his brother’s newfound gayness. It feels padded and slows the film down.
In short, “American Fiction”’ is a fairly entertaining satire and should be enjoyed as such. And the film, which marks Jefferson’s directorial debut of journalist-turned-TV writer, is adept at exploring the Hollywood-adaptation pipeline. But neither Wright’s performance nor the movie is the most original thing I’ve ever seen this year. Let’s see if Oscar voters agree.
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I really liked the movie. It takes a difficult and uncomfortable subject — how whites perceive the stereotypical black experience to be — and makes it humorous. The joke’s on us white folks.