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Special Feature
'Do the Right Thing': 20 Years Later
Spike Lee's masterpiece changed the course of cinema, but how
does it stand up 20 years later? We look back on the eve of the special DVD
release
By David Walker Flashback, summer 1989: Tim Burton's "Batman" was arguably the most eagerly anticipated film heading into the blockbuster season. But within a week of its release in late June, the Batmania that swept the nation began to give way to the most heavily debated topic surrounding any film released that year: "Did Mookie do the right thing when he threw the garbage can through the window of Sal's Pizzeria?" Surrounded by controversy for its frank and candid look at racism, director Spike Lee's "Do the Right Thing" arrived in theaters amidst a media frenzy fueled by fears that the film would incite race riots. Lee had made a name for himself in 1986 when his debut feature, "She's Gotta Have It," became an indie hit, and he further built his fan base with his second film, "School Daze." But it was "Do the Right Thing" that placed the outspoken filmmaker front and center of the media spotlight and made Lee a household name. Celebrating its 20th anniversary this month, "Do the Right Thing" has earned its place as a cinematic classic and arguably one of Lee's greatest achievements as a filmmaker. But looking back at the film as it turns 20, and seeing it through today's eyes, it is interesting to reconsider "Do the Right Thing," both as a film and as a cultural marker. As a film, "Do the Right Thing" is remembered more for the conversations it sparked and for key individual moments than it is for its entirety. People remember the brutality of the fight in the pizzeria, the murder of Radio Raheem and the violence that ensued, the use of Public Enemy's "Fight the Power." And everyone seems to remember the legendary montage of characters looking directly into the camera and spewing racist rants. But unless you've watched the film with any degree of regularity, there are large parts of "Do the Right Thing" that seem to have faded from memory, or have transformed over time. It is a film that exists in bits and pieces of the collective cinematic consciousness. Set on the hottest day of summer in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Bed-Stuy, Lee's racially charged film examined the moment-to-moment events in the lives of local residents, most of them African-American, Puerto Rican or Asian, while centering on the activities at a pizzeria owned by Sal (Danny Aiello), an Italian-American, and his sons Vito (Richard Edson) and Pino (John Turturro). As the hours tick by and the temperature rises, nerves begin to fray, and incidents that might otherwise blow over instead blow up. Infuriated that there are no pictures of African-Americans on the "wall of fame" in the pizzeria, Buggin' Out (Giancarlo Esposito) leads a boycott of Sal's. An argument breaks out at the restaurant. Racial slurs are thrown, then fists. And when the police arrive and try to calm things down, they make a bad situation worse by killing Radio Raheem (Bill Nunn). Mookie (Lee), an employee of Sal's, responds to the death of Radio Raheem by smashing the window of his employer's restaurant, setting off a riot that burns the restaurant to the ground. Twenty years later, much of "Do the Right Thing" still has power. And it is clearly the signature work of a filmmaker with a stylish vision. Everything from the vibrant color palette of Wynn Thomas' production design to Ernest Dickerson's dynamic cinematography to the eclectic soundtrack is reflective of the cinematic spectacle that has come to define Lee's work, both at its best and at its worst. But the movie is dated, not only in the clothing style, which is to be expected, but also in the dialog. Bits of dialog that sounded rich and relevant in 1989 now come across as clunky and at times fall flat, sounding more like a forced interpretation of how black folks talked back then. Lee also tied the film to what at the time were hotly discussed issues surrounding racism. Graffiti on a wall that read "Tawana told the truth" was one of the film's boldest statements, a declaration of support for Tawana Brawley, an African-American teen whose claims that she was sexually brutalized by a gang of white teens was questioned in the national media. Unfortunately, many people don't remember who Tawana Brawley was, and, though this is no fault of Lee's, it does cut into the overall impact of the film. The same is true during the riot scene, when people in the crowd are yelling out the names of real victims of police brutality in New York during the late 1980s, most of whom have sadly faded from collective memory. But just as it is easy to look at "Do the Right Thing" and see its shortcomings, discussing how much it is a product of its time (as all films are), it is crucial to see it for its genius. At the time of its release in 1989, race relations in American film were defined by banter between Danny Glover and Mel Gibson in "Lethal Weapon 2" and Denzel Washington's Oscar-winning performance as a noble savage in the overrated "Glory." And what won the Academy Award for Best Picture that year? "Driving Miss Daisy," whereas "Do the Right Thing" didn't even get nominated. Arriving in this climate of tired clichés and nonthreatening, emasculated black masculinity, there was no way "Do the Right Thing" could be anything but controversial. The hotly contested debates that surrounded the film when it was released still arise 20 years later. Who was right? Who was wrong? What could have been done to avoid the brutal violence that marked the film's climax? Back then, the answer was never clear. It was everyone's fault and no one's fault all at the same time. And to a certain extent that remains the case. But with 20 years to sharpen the focus, it seems clearer that Mookie, the underachieving pizza delivery guy played by Lee himself, is both the real hero and the villain of "Do the Right Thing." As the center of this cinematic universe, Mookie is made to be the character the audience most closely relates to. But he is a lazy, irresponsible man who takes advantage of his employer, respects no one, and shirks his responsibility as a father. When neighborhood drunkard Da Mayor (Ossie Davis) tells Mookie, "Always do the right thing," and Mookie responds with a dismissive, "I got it. I'm gone," it has already been established that Mookie never does the right thing. Of all the characters in the film, he is the one in the best position to bridge the divides that led to the violence. "Do the Right Thing" is still a great movie. Yes it has its flaws, some of
which seem to be more obvious with the passage of time. But it is still powerful
filmmaking that bares an undeniable signature style. And, despite the perceived
progress made in race relations in this country, the racism and police brutality
that define the film still define this country. In that regard, the film has
proven to be timeless, because, 20 years later, people still find themselves
wondering what it means to do the right thing.
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