Massa’ Is We Sick?: The Miseducation of Tyler Perry and Mona Scott-Young
Self-made millionaires, Tyler Perry and Mona Scott-Young, have built a television and film empire. Scott-Young tapped into the lucrative and highly popular niche of reality television and Perry has parlayed his regional stage plays into $1 billion in profit on the silver screen. That said, both leave much to be desired.
Even if I were able to overlook Mona’s and Tyler’s loosey-goosey approach, I cannot overlook their exploitation and contribution to negative tropes about the black community.
Scott-Young and Perry share a deliberate disregard for the quality of content that they produce. Their films and television shows are sloppy and exploit members of the black community. Are they so blinded by the zeros in their bank accounts that they are willing to sell out their own people? Who is pulling the strings?
I will admit, at times when I have found myself in the mood for especially mind-numbing and low brow television. I have watched a couple Love and Hip-Hop (L&HH) episodes and a few of Perry’s films and television shows. Each time I feel like I am part of a get rich quick scheme, and I am not the one getting rich. Their work is rushed and lacks thought, character development, and diversity of perspective.
Scott-Young has cleverly disguised her lazy approach to production under the rouse of reality television. Whether it is L&HH Miami, Atlanta, Los Angeles, New York, or Pluto - cast members always seem to find their arch-nemesis at the most opportune time for a full scene of cursing, hair pulling, and shoe, chair, and drink throwing. Unfortunately, these distasteful scenes represent both the breadth and the depth of most episode’s storylines.
Sadly, Tyler does not lead the pack by much in terms of his writing, producing, and directorial chops. His painfully predictable plots, haphazard writing, and sudden nonsensical twists and turns are nothing new. Perry’s most recent Netflix film received scathing reviews. Rotten Tomatoes gave the film 19% and rated it “rotten”. Common Sense Media said, “What might have been simply a mediocre, routine story takes a plunge into the ridiculous as one twist after another assaults the audience with laughable plotting and a graceless production.”
Ouch!
One explanation for this might be Perry’s lightning-fast film and production timeline. I suppose it is unfair of me to expect quality from a movie that took 5 to 7 days to complete when most feature films take 45-60 days to film.
Silly me.
On the television side, Perry’s piss poor storylines might be caused by his unwillingness to hire a writer’s table, unlike most successful television writers such as Shonda Rhimes. Tyler has not had a writer’s table since 2008 when he fired a group of black writers for unionizing to secure protections for themselves such as healthcare benefits.
Really, Tyler? You didn’t want your people to have healthcare benefits?
Even if I were able to overlook Mona’s and Tyler’s loosey-goosey approach, I cannot overlook their exploitation and contribution to negative tropes about the black community. Perry’s stories constantly rely on the same sad and tired caricatures of blackness. Either an angry, uppity, or broken black woman, an evil or intellectually inferior black man, and the inevitable punishment of a black female protagonist who has gone wayward. We have seen these narratives time and time again in films such as Temptation, Acrimony, and A Fall from Grace. The New York Times said of A Fall from Grace, “Even with Netflix’s backing and a supposedly suspenseful premise, his latest movie is, once again, about a sad, downtrodden woman.
When it comes to Tyler’s appeared obsession with the judgment and punishment of his black female characters, film critic Roger Ebert said of Taraji P. Henson’s character in Acrimony, “Perry’s maltreatment of his morally ambiguous character feels excessive, and if Melinda is mentally ill, then that treatment is cruel.”
This leads me to one burning question: Tyler, who hurt you?
Overall, Tyler’s work reeks of step and fetchit blackface jigging. Acclaimed film director, Spike Lee has referred to Tyler’s productions as “coonery buffoonery”. Similarly, while in an interview with The New Yorker, Scott-Young defended the aggressive and stereotypic portrayals of black women on L&HH saying, “This is what happens in the hip-hop space.”
Perhaps, this is true; but, I firmly believe that everyone who lives in the “hip-hop space” does not automatically defer to flipping tables and breaking into a crescendo of physical altercations at the slightest provocation. Where’s the variety of personality and where’s her responsibility in highlighting the complexities of her cast? Scott-Young has been accused of being responsible for the dominance of “ratchet” television. Although I loathe the word, I think we can all agree, at the bare minimum, she has been a central figure in the movement.
During an interview with Wendy Williams, she referred to L&HH as “black excellence,” to which Wendy responded with a sharp side-eye and a snide remark. Scott-Young went onto defend her claim arguing that several cast members have successfully used the show as a platform to enhance their fame and businesses. Oh, you mean cast members like Joseline Hernandez whose new show documents her journey to revitalize a strip club as a stripper mentor to a group of young black women? The truth is, Scott-Young purposely casts aspiring artists or musicians who are in search of a career makeover and desperate to do so. She mainly preys on the weak.
Love them or hate them, Mona Scott-Young who is worth $30 million and Tyler Perry who is worth $600 million, have made a fortune off of film and television. I am sure their cast is paid a decent salary. There were rumors that Keyshia Cole was paid $1.5 million, with the average L&HH salary hovering at around $100,000 annually.
These salaries are a drop in the bucket considering Scott-Young's net worth and that BET, which is owned by Viacom, is a multi-billion-dollar company. This leads us to one of the more disheartening truths in all of this. Perry and Scott-Young are most definitely eating off the exploitation of black folks. But in doing so, they are both complicit in the commodification of blackness as a negative trope that inevitably adds to the net worth of a long list of white Hollywood bigwigs.
Although Perry now owns a studio, all 20 of his films were distributed through Lionsgate and he has since signed a mega-deal with Viacom. Viacom also owns VH1, the home for all of Mona Scott-Young’s shows. The L&HH franchises have all produced top ratings for VH1 each season. Ratings translate to money. VH1 leads in the top 30 cable networks and hovers around the top 20 among adults aged 18-34. Although Lionsgate and Viacom do not release actual earnings, I think it is safe to say that they both are winning.
In an ideal world free from stereotypes, racism, and oppression this might not matter. There would be a vast number of black film directors, producers, and writers to create content that reflects the dynamic and multi-dimensional nature of black people. But unfortunately, we live in a world that is plagued by racism and oppression. We live in a world in which blacks hold the impact of slavery on their backs like a brand and there are only a handful of black entertainment writers, directors, and produces, and even less, with the kind of power and influence that Tyler and Mona possess.
When I was a little girl, my mother stressed the importance of representation. She taught me that because I was the only black girl in class, I had to work even harder and that my white classmates might view me as a microcosm of the larger black community. Consequently, my behavior was not my own. It also served as the barometer to which my classmates might view blacks overall. Although heavy, I inevitably carried this lesson into adulthood. If a 7-year-old little girl could see the value and truth in that message, surely a grown man and woman in their 50's would get it.
But perhaps, they do not want to. They might not be tired of jigging, just yet. Either way, make no mistakes about it; the mega production companies that they are in bed with, are pulling all the strings and reaping the benefits. Off the backs of black folks.
About Dr. Maia Hoskin:
Maia Niguel Hoskin, Ph.D. is a Los Angeles-based freelance writer, college professor of counseling, and public speaker. She has written on issues related to mental health, women’s issues, structural racism and oppression, and bias in over ten scholarly and non-scholarly journals. She has also written book chapters featured in various academic texts and is a top writer in race on Medium.