He's back, he's black and he's b-a-a-a-d . . . and John Shaft brings some funky blaxploitation memories with him. Can ya dig it?

By STEVE PERSALL, Times Film Critic

© St. Petersburg Times, published June 16, 2000

Former NAACP leader Junius Griffin coined the term "blaxploitation" in 1972, complaining in Variety about negative images in a then-new film called Superfly, a title that also became a catch phrase.

A few weeks before Superfly began production, Isaac Hayes won an Academy Award for his theme song from Shaft, another movie about African-American characters rising above white authority.

Hayes' music and the Oscar it won brought legitimacy to an emerging film genre. Griffin gave it a name.

Today's release of John Singleton's $40-million update of Shaft, starring Samuel L. Jackson, brings blaxploitation to the forefront of pop culture once again.

This time, with more affection than Griffin would have predicted.

It's hard to remember how much the world of movies has changed since blaxploitation films hit the screen. But to get an idea, look back at the St. Petersburg Times movie ads on Aug. 5, 1971, when Shaft opened at the State Theater in St. Petersburg and at the Tampa Theater.

Except for Shaft's star, Richard Roundtree, every face on the page is white, from Walter Matthau in Plaza Suite to James Taylor in Two-Lane Blacktop. No other ads even named an African-American actor.

'Shaft' is still great, but the audience is much improved The remake of Shaft is a class act, never insulting the memory of its popular predecessor. But a lot more moviegoers will appreciate now what at one time was considered entertainment for blacks only. Dig these classics Check your local video stores and cable TV channels for these blaxploitation classics. Bad muthas who mattered Blaxploitation movies were merely beginnings for some artists and entire careers for others. Just for fun, here's a list of the genre's most celebrated soul brothers and sisters. We've added a Funk-o-meter rating ranging from 1 (might as well be Bill Cosby) to 10 (baddest of the bad)

That was the status quo in Hollywood. That is what Shaft and the ensuing blaxploitation trend shook up.

The b-word inspired mixed emotions in the 1970s. It was hard to know exactly who was being exploited.

Was it the black actors hired to play a new set of stereotypes by mostly white filmmakers?

Was it the studios, which for so long had ignored black America and now became more integrated, compelled by the color of money?

Or was it black America in general, for the way many of these films focused on a very small, violent segment of life, full of pimps, pushers and prostitutes?

Three decades of perspective suggest that everybody got something out of the genre, even if it wasn't what they wanted or deserved.

White movie executives were cinematic carpetbaggers of sorts, yet blaxploitation movies did open more opportunities for black talent.

The reality of African-American dissatisfaction in a white-dominated society was shown more honestly than in those noble Sidney Poitier race relations fantasies of the 1960s a la Guess Who's Coming to Dinner. Every blaxploitation hero was hassled by The Man -- meaning white authority figures, especially the police.

Even those who worked on the right side of the law had a militant streak. Black nationalism, including the idea of a back-to-Africa movement, was a constant theme. Bigots were always punished.

Not that these films were high-quality productions. Grainy cinematography, bad acting and dialogue that could fit into comic strip balloons were the rule. But the lack of polish in blaxploitation didn't matter to its core audience.

NAACP complaints about negative images did raise Hollywood sensitivity a bit, steering studios to more diverse fare. It's hard to imagine studios financing Sounder, Lady Sings the Blues and A Soldier's Story without the previous success of blaxploitation.

Of course, it only took one flop like The Wiz (1978) to give Hollywood an excuse to retreat to safer (i.e., whiter) creative ground until John Singleton and Spike Lee came along.

Yet, without blaxploitation there might not have been another generation of black filmmakers, no Denzel Washington or Angela Bassett, or they might have taken longer to emerge.

The new Shaft brings an overdue celebration of blaxploitation full circle. Singleton made this movie because he wanted to, not because a white producer assigned him to it.

And in today's climate, it seems to have all the ingredients for a sure hit.

Jackson is a bona fide movie star, not a box office risk like Roundtree. Nobody openly doubts African-American characters speaking up for themselves anymore, or doubts that audiences will enjoy it.

The idea of a musical soundtrack as a selling point is Hollywood business as usual these days. Sex and violence never go out of style in movies. Rap culture has become high fashion and box office gold.

Need further evidence of black power on the big screen? Just look at the receipts for films such as Big Momma's House and Next Friday.

Some observers may ask: Why resurrect Shaft and why now? A better question may be: Why did they wait so long?