My thoughts on half of a piece of a film

I'm about half way through Pieces of A Woman. This appears to be a film about a devastating home birth and, the very very moving, measured and paced record of this tragedy. This is a very intimate portrayal of a couple, glimpses of a mother in law in loggerheads with her daughter 's partner and how the man suffocates under this older woman's patronage, the charmed world of a lovely house and its minimalistic aesthetics, of this world of doulas and, quiet leafy streets. 

There is an after-tragedy scene where the mother who lost her baby throws out a black man out of her office. 

So far, my reaction to this film is cautious and slightly bored. Technically this film is going to be great. We have Ellen Burstyn here, who is always a treat to watch. We have the bearded Shia LaBeouf in a post Transformer world, of whom I've heard has shunned celebrity and tried to craft an altogether different career. All in all, this film holds great promise and, it will not be a waste of time to watch. 

However, I withhold an all out praise because I know enough about the critique of mainstream Hollywood after decades of watching films. The films that earn endless Oscar praise are still white-entered stories of drama, angst, war and ethos. It is white characters who are given the most space to act out their tragedies, their world views, their pain, their joys in largely neutral , de-contextualised contexts. 

My best friend is , on principle tired of these white stories, and after our nearly 2-decade friendship, I'm also tired of them. I now fully appreciate her point of view. 

Films are not made in a vacuum. Not only have I have been watching , devouring films as a serious cinema phile, but I also devour news and politics and history. And, these tell me that there are many other tragedies and, stories that need to be heard. And put in the mainstream. We know about the oppressed lives of African Americans and particularly African American women. 

We have learned that African American women die in disproportionate numbers compared to white American women. So, why is a film not showing this story? Why does an audience have again to humanise white women , giving home births because they can? 

I just read the brilliant Thick, sent all the way over to me by my South Asian American friend (who I befriended in Monrovia, Liberia). I can't get over this book, for its beautiful text, its clear and such intentionally sharp text, and what it professes to teach me: about African American women, that they are emotional, intellectual and political voices. The author herself describes a harrowing experiences of losing her child in childbirth because of her perceived incompetence, her perceived strength, her perceived invisibility as a black woman. 

Yet, here we are , Oscar season 2021, and watching a white woman in pain. I want to see more stories and portrayals of black women from the US, of their every day lives. 

I paused the film to scribble these thoughts.