Since the success of his 2014 comedy Dear White Peopleand the Netflix series it inspiredwriter-director Justin Simien has maintained an abiding interest in distilling the complex Black American experience into creative storytelling. Bad Hair, his latest satire, blends his penchant for cultural commentary with horrora genre that would benefit, one might assume, from his perspective and crafty repartee. But while the comedy aspect of this Sundance standout works in parts, the horror of it all suffers from knotty reasoning and an unclear thesis.
Bad Hair
Cast
Elle Lorraine, Jay Pharoah, Vanessa Williams, Lena Waithe, Ashley Blaine Featherson, Kelly Rowland, Laverne Cox, James Van Der Beek
Availability
Hulu October 23
Anna (Elle Lorraine) is a determined production assistant in the late 80s at a culture-forward TV network named, well, Culture. Among her abundantly charismatic colleagues, Anna blends in to a fault. Yet her aspiration to produce her own show is threatened not by her potential lack of experience or mousiness but by her natural hair, a style choice that Anna made after an acutely traumatizing experience with a perm kit that left her with a still-tender bald spot. Annas stalled career gets a potential recharge, however, once new boss Zora (Vanessa Williams), an ex-model aiming to rebrand the plucky network for a more diverse (or whiter, to put it plainly) audience, recognizes her potential and offers to put her on the path toward her dreams. But before anyone at the company can take Anna seriously, she has to learn how to blend in with Cultures new lookand it starts with her hair.
Zora recommends that Anna visit Virgie (Laverne Cox), a top-notch weave specialist who can grant her the desired look. After a particularly painful session, Anna finally has the shiny, straight hair that will land her her dream job. But when her new do begins to lose its luster, the only thing that will effectively tame it is a steady supply of blood. Soon enough, its insatiable appetite turns murderous, much to Annas terror.
With a horror premise rooted in a very specific cultural experience, early comparisons to Jordan Peeles work were inevitable. (Hulus trailer for the film, backed by a haunting rendition of Bell Biv DeVoes Poison, does exude strong Us vibes, which didnt help). However, theres a stronger tie to Chris Rocks 2009 documentary, Good Hair, which essentially explored one mans curiosity and eventual judgment regarding Black women and how they choose to style their hair. Like that film, this one is guided by the perspective of a person not directly affected by the chosen subject. While there is absolutely something to be said about the ways Eurocentric beauty standards have been weaponized against Black women for centuries, Bad Hair conveniently ignores the complex relationship that Black women have with their hair, including their autonomy in the matter. The idea that some women may just want to try a new look or explore the versatility of their own hair without some attached trauma never seems to occur to the film. Its conversation is rigid, pitting natural hair against weave or other methods of maintenance.
At least, that seems to be the conversation Bad Hair wishes to spark. If it intends to be an indictment of the entertainment industrys deeply engrained devotion to the status quo or its hostile treatment of Black women, it doesnt expose the inner culture of Culture nearly enough. There just isnt a fully formed exploration of why Black women in particular can feel pressured to conform to certain aesthetics in order to survive in corporate America. Instead, the terror visited upon Anna and her colleagues comes at the hands (or follicles, maybe?) of her occasionally anthropomorphic hair, leaving the audience to wonder exactly what assertion Simien is making in this context. More importantly, as a person who doesnt identify as a Black woman, how hes qualified to make any assertion on the subject remains as unclear as the messaging.
When you strip away Bad Hairs murky politics, youre still left with its even muddier execution of horror elements. While it delivers plenty of gory imagery, the lore is hardly cohesive. How exactly does this killer hair work anyway? Do the bewitched extensions actually control their wearers? While Annas motives for succumbing to her maniacal mane are thankfully clearer, its difficult to understand why anyone with even tenuous knowledge of the hairs capabilities (like Zora, for instance) would expose others to it without dastardly intentions. Meanwhile, any moments of tension are oddly soothed by either humor or convenient reveals that feel more like distracting cop-outs.
Comedy is Bad Hairs stronger suit, thanks to a solid cast and a plot thats sillier than it is insightful. Lorraine conveys fear and wide-eyed optimism very well, and is more than equipped for a leading role, regardless of genre. Williams, hardly a stranger to the ruthless media boss role (remember her Ugly Betty days), has the crack timing and enviable commitment of a camp pro. That said, the humor, at times, also serves as a bit of a crutch, especially near the storys climax. Lena Waithe, for instance, is easily the comedic ace of the cast, and Simiens desire to keep her around as long as possible leads to repeated gags that drag the film out longer than strictly necessary. (Although more than 10 minutes have been shaved off the film since it premiered at Sundance, more pruning probably wouldnt have hurt.)
As in Dear White People,Simien commendably handles the comedy, and he cant be faulted for wanting to try something new, especially when horror and sci-fi serve as great means of conveying a nuanced experience in a gripping visual way. But Bad Hair might be a little too silly to take seriously. More than anything, its a confusing example of what happens when a creator doesnt appear to have anything clear to say, only a strong desire to say something.read more
Horror comedy Bad Hair suffers from tousled commentary but is good for a few laughs
