Lensing the Culture: (Hip Hop) Women behind the Camera
Rachel Raimist
The Black Entertainment Network (BET) is primarily a cable space that aims to promote “Blackness” and Black culture but usually airs limited programming—lots of commercial rap videos that articulate a very narrow view of hip hop culture, have strict heteronormative codes of gender roles, and are often particularly troubling in their stereotypes of representations of race, class, and gender. Many scholars argue that BET has done tremendous damage to hip hop culture and community by promoting only limited and very specific representations of rap music, the larger cultural space, the elements of b-boy culture, and media messages that provide such a narrow box filled with stereotypes of all of the above. This is by design. This is a multi-billion-dollar industry built on research of target markets and demographics, and funded heavily by advertisers who see viewers only as potential product-buying consumers, as discussed in Beretta E. Smith-Shomade’s Pimpin’ Ain’t Easy: Selling Black Entertainment Television.
So, perhaps it comes as no surprise that Nelson George, celebrated author, filmmaker, critic, and television producer for BET (among other venues), declared in his 2005 book Hip Hop America that “if none of these female artists had ever made a record, hip hop’s development would have been no different.”
In a sentence, George attempted to wipe out our contribution to the culture beyond tokenizing, marginalizing, and compartmentalizing, saying that we haven’t had a real or significant impact on a culture that we have participated in as writers, rappers, artists, managers, publicists, filmmakers, supporters, journalists, photographers, b-girls, graf girls, and in every other capacity you could think of, since the beginning of hip hop. This passage gives us an easy target, but points to the notion carried by many folks in and around hip hop culture that simply is just not true. Battle rap would not be the same without Shanté and UTFO; videos wouldn’t have inserted so much comedy without Missy and her black trash bag; Trina has brought agency to booty music; Lauryn has demonstrated that girls can write, sing, rap, play instruments, mother, and choose to participate or step away and come back. Anyone who attempts to discount, minimize, discredit, and ultimately erase our contributions is trying to (re)launch an attack that we hip hop feminists won’t allow to happen.
That’s why My Mic Sounds Nice: The Truth about Women in Hip Hop is so important. When BET first broadcast My Mic Sounds Nice in 2010, it was their first original music documentary. The hour-long documentary reminisces through women in rap history, celebrating legends including Roxanne Shanté, MC Lyte, and Lauryn Hill. It wasn’t an exhaustive history and didn’t include interviews with some of the key ladies: Queen Latifah, Lil’ Kim, Foxy Brown, Da Brat, and so many others. I can imagine why some women didn’t want to be interviewed—who wants to be asked about her sexuality in every interview, or confronted, questioned, or asked to be accountable for what they’ve said on records for a piece that BET may air over and over again in perpetuity? Cable outlets continually show limited and limiting positions for girls and young women, particularly as participants in hip hop culture.
Some women in the film reinforce ideas that if you have the right men around you, you can get produced as a girl group or maybe be the “one girl out the crew,” like Rah Digga of the Flipmode Squad, Eve of Ruff Ryders, Foxy of the Firm, and so on, but it is likely that you’ll get dropped or won’t sell tons of records if and when your solo album is released. The story plays out that if a woman plays it all right and follows the label/handler’s calls, she may be lucky enough to release a solo album and enter into the Foxy/Kim arena, or, of course, she can be a featured dancer in the crew’s video, be an extra dancing in the club scene, or watch from home. There is nothing wrong with any of these options, but why are these the only options for young women? Can’t women do more than be the plus one, or be more than fans who $upport, or be gyrating bodies without heads in the videos?
So, back to the good news: My Mic Sounds Nice by director Ava DuVernay (who first directed This Is the Life, about the legendary Project Blowed in Los Angeles) is an aesthetically beautiful film. The interviews with artists, journalists, and label folks are intimate and allow us to look each of these sisters in their eyes. Ava’s choice of close-ups allows us to see the women rappers as we have never really seen them before—sitting, speaking clearly and articulately, and not intercut with images of them dancing, moving, grooving, or being hypersexualized (being portrayed as hyperfeminine or hypermasculine, as in most music video representations). Looking at women who are beautifully lit, with light reflected in their eyes, is a connective and very powerful experience for the viewer. The supporting cast of Joan Morgan and Kim Osorio, both key journalists, critical for their very different but important contributions, are framed in wider waist shots—they are important, but not (visually) at center stage.
The men interviewed in the documentary share their insights but aren’t given the space to talk over the women. Questlove (The Roots), Jazze Pha, Chuck D (Public Enemy), and others are also framed in eye-level waist shots that don’t give them any more visual power than the women rappers centered in the film. The framing, composition, and lighting (soft, beautiful key light) allow us to be close, intimate, and connected—and isn’t that the point?
There are critiques of the film—too much Trina, not enough tough/“real” questions, failure to include key women, and treating Lauryn like she died after Unplugged—but My Mic Sounds Nice is not an exhaustive history. The film is critically important to our story and includes Invincible, Eternia, Jean Grae, Tiye Phoenix, Medusa, and other non-major-label rap women in an ending montage, showing women that BET doesn’t usually show. Overall, the film offers beauty, insight, celebration, struggle, and history and shows us as women who (yes, Nelson George) have impacted rap music and hip hop culture.
If you loved My Mic Sounds Nice, check these other films by and about women in hip hop:
• Say My Name (2009), directed by Nirit Peled. In a hip hop and R&B world dominated by men and noted for misogyny, the unstoppable female lyricists of Say My Name speak candidly about class, race, and gender in pursuing their passions as female emcees.
• All the Ladies Say (2010), directed by Ana “Rokafella” Garcia, is a film that highlights the lives of six iconic female street dancers from San Jose, Atlanta, Miami, and Chicago, who have carved a niche in the physically challenging, male-dominated break-dance world.
• The Revival (2009) is a tour documentary by rapper Invincible that gives a candid glimpse into the first meeting of legendary hip hop pioneer Roxanne Shanté and veteran Philly emcee Bahamadia as they trade stories of their struggles and triumphs in the industry over their long careers.
• Scene Not Heard (2005), directed by Maori Karmael Holmes, features interviews with some of the originators of hip hop such as Lady B, Schoolly D, Monie Love, and Rennie Harris, with vanguards chiming in, including Bahamadia and Ursula Rucker.
• Counting Headz: South Afrika’s Sistaz in Hip Hop (2007), directed by Vusi Magubane, reveals the struggles and victories of South Africa’s women from the perspectives of women in South Africa’s hip hop scene, including MC Chi, DJ Sistamatic, and graf artist Smirk.
• Nobody Knows My Name (1999), directed by Rachel Raimist, tells the story of women who are connected by their love for hip hop music. Despite the fact that these talented female artists exist within a culture that revolves around self-expression, the subjects of Raimist’s documentary must struggle to be heard.
• Soundz of Spirit (2003), directed by Joslyn Rose Lyons, draws the connections between the creative freedom and the spiritual outlet that hip hop culture provides for the current generation, featuring KRS-One, André 3000 (Outkast), Common, CeeLo, Nappy Roots, Talib Kweli, Blackalicious, Jurassic 5, Dilated Peoples, The Last Poets, and many others.
• Anne B. Real (2003), a feature film written and directed by Lisa France, is a coming-of-age story about a young female rapper who finds her inspiration by reading The Diary of Anne Frank.
• Miss M.C. Presents: Queens of Hip Hop (2003), directed by Danila Perkins, claims that although the rap scene has been ruled by men for twenty years, women are making big moves in the industry. Featuring interviews with Salt-N-Pepa, Lady Luck, Rah Digga, and Charli Baltimore.
• Estilo Hip Hop (2009), directed by Loira Limbal (aka DJ Laylo) and Vee Bravo, is a feature documentary that chronicles the lives of three hip hop enthusiasts from Brazil, Chile, and Cuba who firmly believe that hip hop can change the world.