Amazing Grace (1974)

We all know the feeling of sitting around a table at a family reunion, where the pleasant conversation comes to a grinding halt as whispers are passed around the table – someone (usually an older relative who believes that they have a stronger grasp on reality) has said something racist, sexist or otherwise extremely bigoted. In some cases, it is simply ignored as a senior moment or an attempt to sow discord, whereas in others, it leads to a shift in the conversation, with some groups handling robust debate better than others. This is a perfect scenario in which we can begin to discuss Amazing Grace, in which Stan Lathan (a woefully neglected voice in African-American cinema and a valuable resource as far as understanding the appeal of blaxploitation and its various offshoots), tells the story of Grace Teasdale Grimes, an elderly woman living in the suburbs of Baltimore with her happy-go-lucky husband Forthwith, who has recently retired and is looking forward to spending his golden years following his dreams of being a world-class entertainer. However, they inadvertently discover that their neighbour, a dimwitted but slow older man, is being used as a political pawn, being forced to run for mayor of the city by the Machiavellian incumbent who believes that only through having a complete dunce as opposition can he be assured victory. Grace is not one to take such scandals sitting down, so she decides to take matters into her own hands, and radicalises anyone who would listen to inform them of the issue, and hopefully earn their vote, showing the crooked politicians just who wields the true power. A hilarious, irreverent comedy in which Lathan aims American politics and culture, Amazing Grace is an absolute delight, and more than earns its place as one of the great political comedies of its era, and a film that deserves a critical reappraisal beyond the nostalgic affection those who saw it at the time still hold for it, especially since there ideas contained in this film that are borderline revolutionary and starkly relevant to contemporary issues.

Political satires are a dime a dozen, and are often viewed as somewhat polarising, since it can be an acquired taste to actively seek out comedies that are enshrouded in discourse around political maneuvering and strategy. Yet, they remain oddly popular because they require a degree of intelligence on both the part of the filmmakers and the audience, allowing them to come together to explore issues that are vitally important to whatever culture is being reflected, but filtered through a more comedic lens. The smartest aspect of a film like Amazing Grace is that it finds a way to explore deep themes such as corruption and gerrymandering in a manner that is accessible and easy to understand, making it approachable by any viewer who has an open mind and a sense of curiosity. Several decades have elapsed since the film was made, yet it feels so fresh and engaging, and covers themes that many of us will instantly recognise, which is the result of Lathan’s understanding of the precise qualities that make for an effective satire. Corruption has been present since politics has factored into our consciousness, and rather than aiming for the larger and more inaccessible positions, the film instead rallies around a mayoral election, something that is still considerably quite large and important, but far more manageable – and it very importantly refuses to get caught in the details, providing interesting insights but also building on what the viewer is likely to already know based on their observations, meeting us halfway and using these familiar motifs as an entry-point into an invigorating character study that tackles politics in a way that is consistently compelling and effortlessly well-constructed, all ultimately coalescing in a narrative that bears stark similarity to events that have defined our contemporary relationship with the government and its bizarre techniques to hold onto power.

Comedy has a long and storied history, and it’s almost impossible to filter it all into a single coherent timeline. However, it’s fair to say that there were some comedians whose work was so influential, we can look at the history of comedy as essentially being binary – before their work, and after it. Moms Mabley is quite simply the very definition of a pioneer for multiple reasons – one of the first African-American comedians to achieve national success, which she did over a decade before the sound era even emerged, meaning that she was entertaining audiences long before many of her peers even started working in the film industry. She was also arguably the first truly notable female stand-up comedian, particularly in the purest sense (rather than the likes of Fanny Brice and Gracie Allen, who were hilarious, but often depended on their musical prowess to draw an audience) – depending on her skill to command an audience through nothing but her oratory skills, and even by contemporary standards she is revolutionary as one of the first openly gay female comedians to ever work in the country. Amazing Grace is slightly bittersweet as it was one of the very rare starring roles featuring Mabley, and her only leading performance, as well as her final performance before she passed away less than a year later. This film will likely be the first (if not only) encounter contemporary viewers have to her style of comedy, which is brilliantly contained within this film. She’s outrageously funny, and there is never a moment where her performance is anything other than wholeheartedly entertaining and compelling. The premise of the film – an older woman defies expectations and goes against gender and racial barriers to become a community leader and strip the political elite of their power – is tailor-made for Mabley, who is such a delight on screen. The rest of the cast (which includes iconoclasts like Slappy White, Moses Gunn and, in an unforgettable one-scene performance, the incomparable Butterfly McQueen) revolves around Mabley, supporting her stellar work while also striving to leave a smaller but no less indelible impression of their own, which only enriches this delightful film.

We often find that satires can be very effective when done well, but few genres tend to age as poorly and with as much inconsistency as this one – there’s virtually no way to know which ones will stand the test of time and which ones will be viewed as dated remnants of their era. Amazing Grace is one that easily occupies the former, despite it being designed to be an immediate product of its time. What started as a collision between the decision to give Mabley a starring role and a response to the Watergate scandal eventually flourished into an unexpectedly delightful series of satirical jabs that have rarely been more relevant than they are today. This isn’t arbitrary once we look at the heart of the film and its approach to examining certain concepts – at its core, this is a film that examines the relationship between politicians and the constituents that they pledge to serve, but instead use for their benefit. This is an ambitious concept, and needed an approach that fit the premise, which comes in the form of a film that knows how to find the right balance between different tones, refusing to play the same key for too long, knowing the importance of diversifying even such a seemingly simple concept. The film is filled with irreverent, off-the-wall humour, and the entire premise lends itself to some offbeat humour from the beginning to the end – yet, Lathan still finds some time to make a few meaningful observations, particularly in the discussions around the importance of community and standing up for one’s beliefs. There are a couple of moments where the constant comedy stops for a few beats, and we are given insights into the mind of the characters, who make their intentions clear, particularly in the oddly downbeat final moments in which the titular character delivers a quiet monologue about her views, a subtle but masterful piece of acting from Mabley that consolidates this as one of the great performances of the era, which is facilitated by a director who puts in the work to create a political comedy that is intelligent but never condescending, a narrow distinction that is exceptionally demonstrated throughout this fascinating and well-crafted film.

Amazing Grace was made over half a century ago, and while some of its ideas may be slightly outdated and indicative of a very different time in American history, there is very little doubt that this film has aged exceptionally well, and is covertly one of the greatest political satires made in the 1970s, an era filled to the brim with memorable entries into a genre that has never had a shortage of intriguing works. Lathan is not a director we often think about as being particularly notable in terms of cinematic output (his best and most influential work was done on television, and he’s always been more of a facilitator of great artists than someone who shepherds their productions), but this film is more than enough to warrant a renewed interest in his small but meaningful output as a filmmaker. It’s not particularly complex in execution, but it is unquestionably very well-directed and has a solid foundation on which all of its terrific ideas are constructed. It’s impossible to look beyond Mabley’s incredible performance, especially when she is the element that anchors this entire film and makes it so incredibly captivating, even at its seemingly most limited. Yet, the only way for her performance to be as effective as it was is through a director who fostered the perfect environment to take advantage of her persona while still offering the opportunity to go in some additional directions that we may not have expected at the start. Smart, witty and engrossing almost to the point where we feel a sense of deep melancholy when its fleeting 97 minutes have gone by, Amazing Grace is a tremendous film, and one that is in dire need of another look by modern audiences, who will undoubtedly find value in this nuanced, engaging character study that is as hilarious today as it was at the time of its release, ageing better than several bigger and seemingly more intelligent political satires, proving the importance of a story well-told and artists willing to leap into the unknown when it is appropriate.

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