As an African American, I can tell you the pilot just isn't funny, or well done. There are a host of things going wrong with this pilot, but honestly, it just isn't funny.
Anthony Anderson is miscast as Andre Johnson Sr. His shrill, auditory humor clashes with the witticisms and quips fired by the much more talented Tracee Ellis Ross, portraying Johnson's wife, Rainbow, and those of Lawrence Fishburne, playing Johnson's cynical father, Pops. Lack of comedic instincts aside, Anderson is neither interesting or sympathetic enough to carry the show by himself; he seems to struggle with the choppy writing. The result is a chaffing stereotype: the loud-n-proud black man prone to shouting and befuddlement, and displaying a fixation with hip-hop culture rendering him a cultural class clown.
Let's talk stereotypes for a moment. Anderson's character feels the need construct his identity in the context of hip-hop culture, while simultaneously chiding white co-workers for referencing that presentation. It makes no sense. If you don't want random white people using "What's up, mah brotha?" as a salutation, or trying to give you "dap", then...don't behave that way in your personal life; don't present yourself as stereotypically black. In the real world, most people want to be polite and sensitive, so they will catch on quick to avoid awkwardness. Anderson's character presents as a southern urban black and feels no need to alter his presentation; so his strangely offended attitude is a contradiction.
Much more poignant is the identity crisis confronting Anderson's teenage multi-racial son, Andre Jr. (played by Marcus Scribner). The youth's struggles to navigate his cultural identity, while attempting to assimilate into a predominantly white high school will probably resonate with many multi-racial viewers. His sub-plot is a breath of fresh air, despite the sour jokes.
Lesser complaints include the visual aesthetic. For some reason the pilot has been shot like a glossy food commercial, overusing frosted lens filters to give everything a diffuse glow. There's too much coverage - too many camera angles, none of which are edited in a cinematic way. The show's pacing is awkward at times.
The acting is flat and inconsistent. No one seems to have any comedic timing, but then again the writing/editing doesn't aid the actors here. Fishburne, Ross, and actor Yara Shahidi (star of "Butter" 2011), give the only salvageable performances.
As a black man who went to film school, I'm disappointed Black-ish doesn't tackle a real identity crisis: the need to integrate into white-American culture, while chaffing from ubiquitous perception that hip-hop/urban culture is synonymous with black culture. I'm black 24 hours a day, no matter how I behave, speak, think, or dress; and isn't that what blacks keep trumpeting? That your skin color is just that, a color? It's a post-racial message the show's creators seem to gloss over.
Anthony Anderson is miscast as Andre Johnson Sr. His shrill, auditory humor clashes with the witticisms and quips fired by the much more talented Tracee Ellis Ross, portraying Johnson's wife, Rainbow, and those of Lawrence Fishburne, playing Johnson's cynical father, Pops. Lack of comedic instincts aside, Anderson is neither interesting or sympathetic enough to carry the show by himself; he seems to struggle with the choppy writing. The result is a chaffing stereotype: the loud-n-proud black man prone to shouting and befuddlement, and displaying a fixation with hip-hop culture rendering him a cultural class clown.
Let's talk stereotypes for a moment. Anderson's character feels the need construct his identity in the context of hip-hop culture, while simultaneously chiding white co-workers for referencing that presentation. It makes no sense. If you don't want random white people using "What's up, mah brotha?" as a salutation, or trying to give you "dap", then...don't behave that way in your personal life; don't present yourself as stereotypically black. In the real world, most people want to be polite and sensitive, so they will catch on quick to avoid awkwardness. Anderson's character presents as a southern urban black and feels no need to alter his presentation; so his strangely offended attitude is a contradiction.
Much more poignant is the identity crisis confronting Anderson's teenage multi-racial son, Andre Jr. (played by Marcus Scribner). The youth's struggles to navigate his cultural identity, while attempting to assimilate into a predominantly white high school will probably resonate with many multi-racial viewers. His sub-plot is a breath of fresh air, despite the sour jokes.
Lesser complaints include the visual aesthetic. For some reason the pilot has been shot like a glossy food commercial, overusing frosted lens filters to give everything a diffuse glow. There's too much coverage - too many camera angles, none of which are edited in a cinematic way. The show's pacing is awkward at times.
The acting is flat and inconsistent. No one seems to have any comedic timing, but then again the writing/editing doesn't aid the actors here. Fishburne, Ross, and actor Yara Shahidi (star of "Butter" 2011), give the only salvageable performances.
As a black man who went to film school, I'm disappointed Black-ish doesn't tackle a real identity crisis: the need to integrate into white-American culture, while chaffing from ubiquitous perception that hip-hop/urban culture is synonymous with black culture. I'm black 24 hours a day, no matter how I behave, speak, think, or dress; and isn't that what blacks keep trumpeting? That your skin color is just that, a color? It's a post-racial message the show's creators seem to gloss over.