It appears cinematic black presidents (with the notable exception of 
Mr. Rock)come in two flavors: stentorian and muscle-bound.

~rave(?)

  

--- In scifinoir2@yahoogroups.com, "tdemorsella" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
>
> Over the past decade, their have been a number of films and TV shows
> featuring Black Presidents.  Now that we have a real one, I thought
> this overview might be relevant
> 
> 
> culturebox
> Black Presidents
> A pop-cultural survey.
> By Troy Patterson
> Posted Friday, Oct. 24, 2008, at 10:26 AM ET
> 
> The first movie to imagine a black president of the United States at
> any length was Joseph Sargent's satirical drama The Man in 1972.
> There, Douglass Dilman, president pro tempore of the Senate, happens
> into the Oval Office after the president and the speaker of the 
House
> die in a ceiling collapse. Unavailable on DVD, The Man is now a
> rarity, and yet it clearly forecasts the screen existences of
> subsequent black presidents.
> 
> James Earl Jones uses his commanding, paternal, universally
> presentable voice in the title role—a harbinger of baritones to 
come.
> Notably, the job of adapting Irving Wallace's novel went to Twilight
> Zone creator Rod Serling. Black presidents have most often existed 
in
> science-fiction scenarios, lending a futuristic tint to the
> proceedings. Next summer, Danny Glover will play one President 
Wilson
> in 2012, Roland Emmerich's forthcoming special-effects spectacular.
> 
> What might any of this mean for Barack Obama? Beats me. But the next
> two weeks will see much talk and many pixels devoted to race and his
> candidacy, and in a nation drunk on entertainment, the legacy of his
> fictional forebears has to count for something. Herewith, a scan of
> the most prominent black presidents in American pop culture and a 
stab
> at understanding their significance.
> 
> 24 (2001-Present)
> Actors: Dennis Haysbert, D.B. Woodside
> Presidents of the United States: David Palmer, Wayne Palmer
> 
> Tellingly, the first black actor cast as the president on Fox's 
action
> series was most famous as the voice of an insurance company. We were
> in good hands with David Palmer and his race-neutral Allstate
> baritone, and his looks—mainstream manliness shaded brown—radiated
> dependability. The same can't be said of the black president who
> succeeded him on the show. David's brother Wayne—24 is, of course,
> energetically ludicrous, so don't bother about the plot twists that
> preceded his swearing in—has a shaved head and a jazzman's goatee
> altogether too slick for the West Wing. The actor playing Wayne, 
D.B.
> Woodside, looks like NBA point guard Gary Payton—and perhaps not for
> nothing. Is there anything to the fact that Fox's online profiles 
for
> both characters mention their athletic prowess? Wayne Palmer went to
> Stanford on a baseball scholarship, and David was a basketball star 
at
> Georgetown. It's as if they've vaulted into politics from a more
> familiar field for African-American heroes. Whatever—they're tough 
on
> terrorism.
> 
> Deep Impact (1998)
> Actor: Morgan Freeman
> POTUS: Tom Beck
> 
> Not to be confused with the same year's Armageddon, about astronauts
> nuking an asteroid on a collision course with the Earth, Deep Impact
> is about nuking a comet on a collision course with the Earth. It's
> also about an MSNBC reporter so darling, as played by Téa Leoni, 
that
> the president gives her something of a scoop about the comet-nuking
> mission. Freeman looks and sounds conventionally presidential in the
> way that only a Visa pitchman can (cf. Dennis Haybert and his
> underwriter's reliability). The actor shades his quiet
> righteousness—that Bruce Almighty-style rigor—with just a smidgen of
> Driving Miss Daisy deference. There's no subtextual reason for Beck 
to
> be black—beyond patting America on its broadly inclusive back, 
maybe,
> or signaling an EEO solidarity with Leoni's girl reporter.
> 
> The Fifth Element (1997)
> Actor: Tommy "Tiny" Lister
> POTUS: President Lindberg
> 
> Luc Besson's wiggy fantasia tells the story of a planet representing
> pure evil on a collision course with the Earth in the 23rd century.
> Instead of nukes, our weapon against it is Milla Jovovich's
> bandage-attired supernatural sylph, and one President Lindberg
> oversees her deployment. (Technically, Lindberg leads an entity 
called
> the "United Federation," which is headquartered in New York City, 
but
> the geopolitics of blockbusters rule him in as our commander in
> chief.) Among its many bits of delirium, The Fifth Element presents 
a
> quasi-ironic festival of retrograde racial images, with Variety's
> review noting that Chris Tucker's mincing sidekick "sounds like
> Butterfly McQueen on speed." As played by Lister—a 300-pounder best
> known for playing a larcenous thug in Friday—Lindberg is not a
> suitable role model. Too "angry." Too "hostile." Too much "bestial
> grunting." That said, his menacing glares somehow suggest he'd stand
> firm against lobbyists.
> 
> Head of State (2003)
> Actor: Chris Rock
> POTUS: Mays Gilliam
> 
> In the only film on this list that does not qualify as fantasy or
> science fiction, a presidential candidate dies in a plane crash.
> (Shades, here, of The Man.) Party bosses, believing that defeat is
> certain, select a small-time D.C. alderman to head their ticket and
> take a fall so that an insider can cruise to victory four years 
later.
> Jokes predicated on the friction between urban culture and Beltway
> manners ensue in this slightly—very slightly—underrated comedy.
> Gilliam, played by Chris Rock, of course lacks Obama's detachment 
and
> reserve. Rather, his style combines the hard-line populism of John
> Edwards with the idealism of Jimmy Stewart's Jefferson Smith and the
> ghetto fabulousness of Warren Beatty's Jay Billington Bulworth.
> 
> Idiocracy (2006)
> Actor: Terry Crews
> POTUS: Dwayne Camacho
> 
> Mike Judge's sci-fi satire unfolds in the 26th century in a United
> States whose degraded citizens habitually deaden themselves with 
video
> games and fast food. (The movie is a cult classic, rather than a
> popular favorite, because its absurdism hits too close to home.) 
Luke
> Wilson—playing the "most average" soldier in the Army of 2005—awakes
> from Rip Van Winkle hibernation to find that he's the smartest guy 
in
> the country and soon joins the Cabinet of President Camacho, who
> entered the political arena via the wrestling arena. While Camacho's
> skin color is much really less of an issue than, say, the fact that 
he
> commands respect at the State of the Union by firing an automatic
> rifle at the ceiling, his processed hair and street idiom do lend an
> extra outlandish to the apocalyptic portrait. Do you want to have a
> beer with him? Yes, you could perhaps share a case, but as his full
> name is Dwayne Elizondo Mountain Dew Herbert Camacho, you might 
prefer
> to bond over two liters of acid-green soda pop.
> Troy Patterson is Slate's television critic.
> 
> Article URL: http://www.slate.com/id/2202810/
>



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