So Sue Me....

Yes, I missed the American Black Film Festival that was held here in Los Angeles this month. I think I made my feelings clear about how I feel about these events in my last post about Black film festivals. Until things improve in my eyes, I'm gonna be pretty darn selective.

Undercover Black Man went to the closing night film, which is uaually the biggest shindig at these things. LMAO at his random comment about bras and backless dresses!:

Last night I finally got to see “The Black List,” the new documentary by Elvis Mitchell and Timothy Greenfield-Sanders. (I blogged about this project in January.) It was screened in Beverly Hills.

Alas, I didn’t know the screening was part of the closing-night festivities for the American Black Film Festival. Dudes were rocking blazers, women had on heels... and I stepped up in there with jeans and tennis shoes. Straight bummin’.

I haven’t seen that many black folks in one spot in a while. Celebrity-wise, I spotted Eriq LaSalle across the crowded lobby. I also saw a (white) porn star, Nina Hartley. First I assumed they let her in on a Booty Waiver. (Yeah, fellas... she’s still got that bubble tush working.) But then I saw her chumming around with Greenfield-Sanders, who directed a porn-star documentary in 2004.

Speaking of getting dressed up, may I ask you ladies a question? What’s the deal with wearing a bra with a backless dress? I saw that twice, and it is messed-up-looking.

Anyway... “The Black List” rocked the place. Not only did Elvis and Tim get a standing ovation, not only were there numerous outbursts of applause throughout the movie... but there were murmurs, laughs and other sounds of affirmation indicating a fully engaged crowd.

Elvis declared that this was the best audience for “The Black List” ever.

And all the movie is is a series of interviews with notable Negroes... from Colin Powell to Chris Rock, from Toni Morrison to Serena Williams. “The Black List” has a cumulative power that belies its simple structure. It really does feel like you’re eavesdropping on the world’s coolest cocktail party.

Matter fact, “The Black List” works so well as a group experience, I wonder whether it’ll be as effective when it debuts on HBO two weeks from tonight.

Plus you’ll see a photo of Slash as a teenager with an Afro. And a picture of Louis Gossett, Jr. from his Greenwich Village “beatnik” days, strumming a guitar. (Who knew?)

A companion “Black List” coffee-table book, featuring Timothy Greenfield-Sanders’ photo portraits of the interviewees, goes on sale next month.