Review: Boss

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2018

Images from the Internet

                            

Boss (aka Boss N****r)

Directed Jack Arnold

Dimension Pictures / 3P Productions /
JACS Films / Kit Parker Films / MVD Entertainment

87 minutes, 1975 / 2018

http://kitparker.com/

www.mvdvisual.com

                                                                                                            

A subgenre that seems to have disappeared since at least the 1980s, is the one referred to as Blaxploitation. This style was so much fun, even when it went a bit over my head (i.e., inside jokes to a specific audience). With pun-ish names like Coffy (1973), Blacula (1972), Cotton Comes to Harlem (1970) and arguably the most culturally successful one, Shaft (1971; “that cat Shaft was a bad mother…”), they tended to be shown in certain neighborhoods in selective markets¸ or on Times Square during its Golden Era, which is where most of my friends caught them. What most people don’t realize is that these films tended to be written and directed by white people who appropriated and cashed in. In this case, the film was written and produced by its star, Fred “The Hammer” Williamson.

While the packaging understandably has a slightly different name than the original that I choose not to say outright because I don’t feel I have the right, the actual film here uses the initial 1975 moniker. What interests me is that this technically came out a year after Blazing Saddles [BS], which is also a Western centered on a black man who arrives in a town that is whiter than gerrymandered Mississippi. What I wonder is, as Richard Pryor was one of the writers of BS, was there some influence in one direction or the other. However, Boss feels more like a one-on-one response to BS, even if you just count the amount of times the N-word is evoked.

Fred Williamson and D'uville Martin

Another influence seems to be the great Spaghetti Westerns that were often in theaters around that time, such as those by Sergio Leone, but also smaller productions such as the Trinity series. Throughout much the film, Williamson has a “Man With No Name” stogie sticking out of his mouth. My guess is that this film was a culmination of all these influences.

It’s pretty clear early on that this and BS definitely overlap, as Williamson’s character, a bounty hunter, becomes sheriff. His sidekick, Amos (the late, great D’Urville Martin, d. 1984) of course is more Charlie (Charles McGregor, d. 1996) than The Kid/Jim (Gene Wilder, d. 2016). Here, Boss and Amos are trying to get Jed Clayton (character villain William Smith getting to show up his muscular arms often) for a big bounty reward, and he regularly comes to that town. He’s sort of the Taggart (Slim Pickens; d. 1983) of this one.

Carmen Haywood

There are only a few white characters that are nice to the new sheriff, and one is the prudish school teacher, Miss Pruitt (Barbara Leigh; her initial BS equivalent is Harriett Johnson/Carol Arthur); she mentions how she’s from Boston and used to love when her Black servants used to sing and dance, the equivalent of saying “Like a member of the family.” This character is definitely a political statement by Williamson, which I applaud, because I remember our elementary school teachers expecting the one Black student in our class to sing, “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands” in front of the group (she became militantized just before Middle School with a huge afro and dashiki), which in retrospect I am embarrassed to be even indirectly a witness.

Speaking of social commentary, Williamson also bravely takes on the way Latinos are treated, bringing them into town much to the dismay of many of the townsfolk (in BS terms, “…but we don’t want the Irish!”). However, and this is more rear-view mirror thinking because I understand what was happening at the time, both the Boss and Amos kind of abuse their power, too, by being overly strict in a nearly totalitarian way. I’m willing to bet that those for whom this film was directed had reason to cheer watching them get the Man after so many centuries of oppression, but it’s also important to remember that people who are oppressed learn the mannerisms of control from one end of the power dynamic, and may enforce the other way when things get reversed (Boss and Amos mention that they were freed slaves, at some point early on). I believe Williamson’s spirit was in the right place when he wrote this, yet looking back, it seems a bit heavy-handed. I would love to know what he thought about this now.

RG Armnstrong and William Smith

An interesting dynamic is the burgeoning lustfulness of white Miss Pruitt and the Black woman who is the real obvious love interest, Clara Mae (Carmen Hayward). One throws herself at Boss a la Lili Von Shtupp (Madeline Kahn), and the other is more… resourceful . Pruitt shifts from an upstanding prude to a lip-glossed horny-toad in moments of the arrival of Boss. It is when bad man (usually dressed in white; perhaps another social commentary?) Jed’s actions put Clara Mae in peril (gotta be a woman in peril, right?) that starts the third act leading to the violent showdown that you have to know is coming even before starting the film. This was true of Westerns even before The Wild Bunch (1967), and yes, BS sort of ended that way, too. But even gangster Blaxploitation films like Shaft tended to end with a big blowout.

Barbara Leigh
(image not from this film)

There is also a high level of misogyny that goes beyond the Pruitt/Clara Mae rivalry, as women as nearly all seen as fodder for the men to grab, use, rape and generally be in constant hazard, though Clara Mae shows she is smart and wily enough to know how to use her looks to get out of certain situations. What I find amazing, even among films I like across genres, is the way a particular group will be shown in a particular light, but still view women as less than secondary, and merely there for the men to either use, abuse, or ignore, even those they love. I respect Williamson’s take on the Black and White power dynamics he manipulates so well, in the time period in which this is filmed/written, but I’m now also grateful for seeing more powerful female characters of the modern era (even when it comes with exploitive nonsense like Bridesmaids, Bad Moms, and yes, the Melissa McCarthy film, The Boss).

Among the pretty broad acting at times, there are little gem roles, such as a Latina mom, played by the great Carmen Zapata (d. 2014; she kinda looks like a Spanish Tyne Daley), who if you are of a certain age, you saw in multiple movies and television shows. Also appearing as the Mayor is stalwart RG Armstrong (d. 2012), who also stands out, even when spitting out likes like, “I wasn’t questioning you, I was just askin’.” He’s kind of a Trump trickster character who plays sides against others for his own gain.

Carmen Zapata
(Image not from this film)

There is a moment towards the end that took me a bit by surprise, I’m happy to say, and it isn’t an easy ending, but that’s part of some of the moments that make the film special.

There are four extras, which I will describe in the opposite order listed because I followed my interest. First is the 27:09 “Conversation with Fred Williamson,” hosted by Joel Blumburg (d. 2010). Filmed in 2008, Williamson is asked a lot about his football, how he got into filmmaking, and it’s easy to see how much of his persona is built on his personality and self-image (“I never get killed, I always get the woman if I want…”). However, this is a generic interview rather than directed for The Boss, and while it’s interesting, it doesn’t answer my questions about this particular film (e.g., the BS connection, or not).

The Jack Arnold Tribute is 3:49, which is quite lovely. Myrl Schreibman, who was Associate Producer and now UCLA Film Professor, puts some really nice perspective on the director of Boss, as well as some of Arnold’s most important B-films of the 1950s and ‘60s, including Tarantula, The Creature From the Black Lagoon, and The Mouse That Roared. Arnold’s impact today is nicely explained in the brief amount of time.

Next to last is “The Boss Memory” with Schreibman, at 7:53. While he never answers my questions about the Boss/BS, he does tell some fun production stories and anecdotes. The last extra is the original trailer.

This is a particular film in from a particular time of some strong political and social change, and it’s a mostly enjoyable view into that changing world.