- Charles Burnett’s work often explores the Black experience in Los Angeles.
- His film “Killer of Sheep” garnered international acclaim but faced challenges.
- Burnett’s later film “My Brother’s Wedding” tackled themes of comedy and tragedy.
- Burnett’s career reflects the struggles of Black filmmakers in the industry.
LOS ANGELES, 2025-06-14 17:33:00 – Charles Burnett, a visionary filmmaker, crafted a unique lens on the Black experience. Burnett’s work, often characterized by its raw, unflinching portrayal of life, has left an indelible mark on cinema. His most famous work, “Killer of Sheep,” and its subsequent films showcased his storytelling abilities.
What challenges did Charles Burnett face in his filmmaking career? The acclaimed director, known for his gritty and realistic depictions of Black life, navigated a film industry that often overlooked or misunderstood his artistic vision. Burnett’s journey highlights the complexities of creative expression and the hurdles that Black artists have faced.
Early Visions and Raw Reality
One of Burnett’s earliest cinematographic efforts is the silent short “69 Pickup,” written and directed by Penick. The film delves into the complexities of race and sexuality. It’s a stark and honest look at human experience. “69 Pickup” is an important early work by Burnett. His style, focused on bodies, is already apparent, waiting to be put to better use. Burnett’s subsequent work, the short “Several Friends,” explored adult friendship, setting the stage for “Killer of Sheep.”
The Echoes of “Killer of Sheep”
Oscar Micheaux, a Black writer and director, worked outside the studio system in the thirties, making race pictures. Burnett, however, hadn’t seen Micheaux until after “Killer of Sheep.” The impact of “Killer of Sheep” has resonated throughout the decades. The film’s influence is seen in many corners of culture.
The Making of a Classic
The first press notes for “Killer of Sheep” report the filming taking place in five or six weekends over a year. Burnett paid most nonprofessional adult actors with gratitude or beer. Some scenes were restaged from his life. One scene shows young boys leaping across buildings: not thinking about peril, they are airborne, while the adults are chained to the road below, as noted by filmmaker Barry Jenkins.
Julie Dash, the director of “Daughters of the Dust,” and an assistant director on one of Burnett’s later films, said, “The first time I saw ‘Killer of Sheep,’ . . . I just assumed a woman made it, because it is so tender.” The goal was not obfuscation. Burnett’s women vibrate with inner life. The actress Kaycee Moore is the heart of the film. She is a flesh-and-blood person with her own appetites and desires. Moore bears a resemblance to Cicely Tyson, the persevering heroine of the seventies.
International Recognition and Its Paradox
The Fipresci Prize at the 1981 Berlin International Film Festival went to “Killer of Sheep.” “When we went there,” Burnett said, “we felt the twenties coming back.” The international acclaim created a paradox. “In some ways,” Burnett once said, the international acclaim “made it worse. People think I’m an artist. They may not consider me for a job.”
The Comedy and Tragedy of “My Brother’s Wedding”
Following the festival win, the Germans gave Burnett a financing grant. His next film, “My Brother’s Wedding,” which he shot in 1983, is like the photonegative of “Killer of Sheep.” The top tone is comedy, the undercurrent tragedy. The action returns to South Central Los Angeles. Burnett spins a comic-tragic yarn about Pierce (Everett Silas), a kind of blinkered fool. In one comic scene, a man with a gun tries to rob him, but the gun jams. When Burnett’s gun goes off, as it eventually does—unseen and unheard—we are suddenly aware that we have been under his quiet control. “My Brother’s Wedding” had it all: an explicit entertainment factor, the pathos of tragedy, a behind-the-scenes political story.
Post-production was difficult. One actor walked off before filming was completed. Burnett sent an unfinished cut to his producers. One festival premièred the unfinished version in 1984. The momentum, critical for a second-time filmmaker, especially the Black filmmaker, was killed.
A Cult Following and Literary Comparisons
In 1988, the MacArthur Foundation awarded Burnett a “genius” grant. In 1990, coinciding with the festival première of “To Sleep with Anger,” the Black film and theatre critic Lisa Kennedy profiled Burnett in the Village Voice. She saw in him a bard who belonged not to film but to literature: “The company Burnett keeps is not with his would-be peers—[Spike] Lee or the Hudlins [Reginald and Warrington] or the Wayans [Marlon and Shawn]—but with Toni Morrison or playwright August Wilson.”
Defining Black Cinema
In the nineties and into the new millennium, one definition prevailed: the young Black male director made movies Black. Although women directors, such as Julie Dash, put out revolutionary work, the aspect of Black filmmaking that was emphasized, among movie buffs, was that of maleness. In 1991, the New York Times Magazine ran a cover story about the “black director” boom, with the headline “They’ve Gotta Have Us.”
