Among the worst things life has to offer is white children of privilege going pro with their conservatism. Ah, yes, you’ve never known dissatisfaction in any meaningful way and yet you claim the right to speak for all. It is truly an awful thing. College should serve as a universal base line – all are equal once admitted; achievement is based 100% on merit.
Wow. Wouldn’t that be nice?
The sick punchline is given away in the opening moments of Dear White People. Near Ivy Winchester … University? College? JC? Bible School? lodges students in houses of various themes. The house filled mostly with privileged white pricks hosts a “black party” where the object is to come clad in the most hateful stereotypical costume you can manage and behave in a way that embarrasses all humanity. It’s kinda like a redneck family reunion, only with less violence.
Dear White People, thankfully, mostly revolves around the black people in the film, a refreshingly diverse group. The climax is given away in the outset, and I wondered why until realizing this was a character-not-plot driven film. Otherwise, the audience is going to drift if you don’t tell them something awful is coming. “Dear White People” is an aggressive radio show hosted by activist heroine Sam White (Tessa Thompson). –I love that they gave her the surname “White”—she’s a conflicted know-it-all. Pushed into a corner, she wins the presidency of her dorm and vows not to integrate (thus diluting the history of the structure). That’s all window dressing. What’s important is watching her take on the black causes around her fully knowing the difference between protest and crime … and hiding her white boyfriend.
What’s great about Dear White People is the exploration of race relation while avoiding generic portrayals. Sam wins the election from the popular Troy (Brandon P Bell). Being son of the Dean of Students (Dennis Haysbert), Troy is privileged and tends towards the conservative end of the political spectrum. But he’s still black and knows it. Then there’s Lionel (Tyler James Williams), a homosexual would-be journalist with an Afro the size of New Haven and the meekness of a cartoon mouse. In a weird twist, he’s even a victim of sexual harassment when he takes a job on the school paper and his gay boss takes advantage. I couldn’t be more pleased in watching Lionel’s reaction – a little excited, a little repulsed, but mostly nervous. Just because you know you’re gay doesn’t mean you know jack about sex and relationships and more than heterosexual people do.
Without necessarily resorting to straw men or ugly stereotypes (Ok, the privileged white kids aren’t exactly given a deft touch, but the credits remind us they don’t deserve it; they represent those fraternity and sorority bigots who in reality have thrown African-American themed parties), Dear White People is just hard-hitting and funny enough to 
grab your attention. Through Sam’s hilarious video tribute, the film even has the nerve to criticize the classic racist groundbreaking film Birth of a Nation.
Not a single black character in this film is an athlete. Not one. That’s awesome. Oh, and did you know many black people hate Tyler Perry films as much as I do? That doesn’t actually surprise me. It might surprise notme.
So, that all said — look, I’m going to put this as kindly as I can because I did like this film: for all the race relation progress we’ve made, still even as late as 2014, we have in our country police officers shooting a man for being black and a political party who has taken both houses of congress on the successful strategy of minority disenfranchisement. You’re allowed to hit harder than this, Justin Simien – white people have it coming and we all know it. Dear White People is the kind of film that intends to shine a flashlight under the refrigerator of an abandoned house, scurrying all the cockroaches of injustice in the process. It didn’t quite get there. I blame THE MAN.
It’s college. Get off the yacht, G!
And go explore your inner Nazi
Uh oh, minorities
Can’t just ignorities
With peril your road is fraught, see?
Rated R, 100 Minutes
D: Justin Simien
W: Justin Simien
Genre: No justice, no peace!
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: “Ferguson was a tragedy”
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: “Who’s Ferguson?”
