LOSING ISAIAH
A film review by Benjamin Edward Swire
Copyright 1995 Benjamin Edward Swire
LOSING ISAIAH'S Poor Oversight
How much cash does it take to be a mother? Stephen Gyllenhaal's new film LOSING ISAIAH delves into the issues of motherhood and race attempting to separate them. But if one looks at all closely into what the film has to say, it is apparent that underlying these surface concerns is a quickly dismissed issue of class.
While at times a bit heavy handed, occasionally going for the easy tear-jerking moments, LOSING ISAIAH is a good film--solidedly acted, well scripted, and skillfully directed. It is however, exactly what you'd expect it to be. That may be good and that may be bad depending on your taste, but if you have seen the previews or ads, then you know exactly what you're in for. The film knows its audience and is aimed directly at sentimental viewers with an affection for heartwarming/wrenching domestic tales.
The story is about an African-American infant boy (played by cute 'n' cuddly Marc John Jeffries who inspires more "ahhs" than a tornado in Kansas) abandoned by his crack-addicted mother Khaila (Halle Berry) and ultimately adopted by the Lewins, an affluent white family.
Three years pass, and after getting clean, Khaila wants her Isaiah back. The Lewin clan however, and especially Isaiah's new mother Margaret (Jessica Lange), has inconveniently grown fond of the boy and consider him an important part of the family. They are after all, the only family Isaiah has ever known.
The battle which ensues for custody of the three-year-old traipses across some volatile and controversial cultural lines--bringing to the fore valid though contrary viewpoints from both sides of the argument that "Black babies belong with black mothers."
Yet while the surface debate concerns itself with the question of whether motherhood can escape the boundaries of race and biology (as opposed to being dependent on those very factors), the question which gets no debate is whether the quality of a mother is determined by her financial status. For the film, the answer is unquestionably "yes."
A major emphasis is placed on presenting Khaila to the court as a competent mother. Judging by the steps taken to achieve it, competence in this film apparently depends upon one's decorating budget and fashion sense.
For when she is being prepared for her court appearance there is a sequence of scenes (reminiscent of the A-Team preparing for the climactic battle) in which all signs of her poverty are systematically erased. Her unkempt hair is redone in a corporate coif; in place of sweatshirt and jeans, she is outfitted in a well-tailored suit accented by a string of pearls on loan from her counselor; she is even relocated from the friend's apartment in which she had been staying and provided with more "respectable" housing (which she is promptly instructed to decorate and repair).
On the one hand, one can suppose that given the need to convince the court, she needs to appeal to the aesthetics of the court and its sense of propriety.
But the affection for the facade is not exclusive to the courtroom--Khaila is thrilled by the prospect of wearing real pearls and the camera treats her initial courtroom appearance, the first time we have seen the ensemble assembled, as if it were the second coming. There is an utter absence of any sort of working-class consciousness. The standards are the standards of the wealthy class, validating its own aesthetic while condemning all else as inferior and embarrassing--it is humiliating to be poor.
The film makes no effort to address poverty except to equate it with criminality and corruption. "Why should I bother cleaning up," Khaila asks, "if someone is just going to look in, see what I've got, and take it?"
Beyond this specific impairment in the film's social vision, there lies a more disturbing matter: the simplicity with which the film ultimately treats the questions and issues it does recognize. This simplicity is both dangerous and damaging. It is bound up in an idea of entertainment as catharsis--a purging of emotions. The idea is that as one watches the Lewins cry, Khaila cry and Isaiah gurgle, all sorts of emotions and energy will be stirred up ("I laughed, I cried, it was better than Cats!" etc.). By the time one is fed a resolution, all the energy which was conjured up during the show is spent.
While during the film one may be horrified by the injustice of the court system, since it all works out in the end, that horror evaporates with the credits. Nothing is left to motivate the viewer into action--for example to do something about the injustice of the real court system. In a sense, the make-believe solution to the Isaiah dilemma has been substituted for a solution in the real world. Rather than a call to action, film becomes a $7 pacifier.
The film responds to some of the most complex, and problematic issues of our society by dismissing them with the vacuous simplicity of "just say no" and "can't we all just get along?"
Although it is undoubtedly a step forward to even attempt to tackle this type of subject matter in a mainstream forum, in fact it does damage to this same subject matter by trying to solve it in a four-minute, spine-tingling, teary-eyed climax.
Lurking behind the various cheap emotional tugs of LOSING ISAIAH are extremely relevant social issues. The film tries to take a good hard look at the insane social imbalance which remains virtually unscathed day after day, and for that LOSING ISAIAH deserves some credit.
Unfortunately, these issues are treated as simply another set of loose plot lines--that type which Hollywood loves to tie up just before the credits with a big hug and dramatic swelling of the soundtrack (usually violins).
Hello? With apologies to Sherlock Holmes, swelling violins solve nothing. If you are going to acknowledge an issue, acknowledge it and allow it some weight.
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