‘American Fiction’ Makes a Magnificent Mockery of Our Cultural Status Quo

There are two distinctly different stories scuffing up against one another in American Fiction. One concerns a professionally successful but personally messy family navigating a series of hardships. The other is about what happens when an intellectual writer allows his frustration with the world to compromise his artistic vision.

Based on Percival Everett’s 2011 novel Erasure, American Fiction, written and directed by Cord Jefferson, revolves around author Thelonious “Monk” Ellison (played engagingly by Jeffrey Wright). When we first find him, Monk is tired of seeing his novels sidelined into the African American Studies section of the bookstore, while works that reinforce racist stereotypes are welcomed into central displays. His frustration is compounded when he is forced to take a leave of absence from his university job for being too unfiltered and ornery.

In the midst of dealing with those professional problems, Monk is called home to Boston where he faces additional issues hitting his mother and siblings. (Wright’s chemistry with Sterling K. Brown and Tracee Ellis Ross, who play Monk’s brother and sister, is a consistent delight). The combination of all these stresses one night prompts Monk to sit down and angrily pen a manuscript steeped in Black stereotypes and awash with pandering storylines. The book, titled My Pafology, is intended as a middle finger to the publishers who think Monk’s other most recent novel isn’t “Black enough” to warrant release.

To Monk’s surprise and consternation, those same publishers fall over themselves to pick up Pafology. Before long, the writer is doing interviews as his alter-ego, Stagg. R. Leigh (a fun nod to infamous 19th century pimp Stagger Lee, who has inspired countless songs over the years). A series of increasingly ludicrous events follow as Monk’s personal ethical conundrums spiral out into the wider literary world.

Within American Fiction, the delicate family drama at play does not always gel cohesively with its often comedic rendering of the publishing world. But perhaps dissonance is the point. American Fiction is, at its core, a story about the many ways that mainstream popular culture fails to reflect the true breadth of the Black American experience. By juxtaposing Monk’s home life — his academic career, his doctor siblings and quaint beach house — with the cartoonish criminal persona he is forced to adopt to promote Pafology, the absurdity of America’s cultural status quo is quite thoroughly reflected.

American Fiction is at its most fun when it’s mocking white thirst for violent and reductive Black stories. Adam Brody is deliciously smarmy as a misguided movie producer who profits from peddling racial stereotypes. Miriam Shor is hilarious as an urbane publisher pretending to understand street life. A scene in which two white literary judges shut down two Black judges because “it’s essential to listen to Black voices right now,” is brilliantly executed. All of these moments are aimed squarely at white people who feel they can absolve themselves of racism if they look directly at depictions of Black suffering for long enough. That these white folks think they’re brave for doing so is the punchline.

American Fiction is, all at once, an effective family drama, a hilarious critique of institutional racism and a complicated look at the consequences (and potential benefits) of complicity. The fact that no easy answers or solutions are provided to the many questions the movie prompts will keep you pondering long after the credits have rolled. And you’ll never view Precious: Based on the Novel ‘Push’ by Sapphire the same way again.
‘American Fiction’ opens nationwide on Dec. 22, 2023.