School Daze-d and Confused

What would you have done in moments of great fracture and systemic injustice? We tend to think of ourselves as moral beings, always standing firm and deeply rooted on the correct side of history. Of course we would have helped slaves escape the barbarity brought by the horrors of the transatlantic slave trade, marched alongside marginalised communities during the plethora of civil rights liberation movements, wholly denounced apartheid in all its crude manifestations, and caught early warning signs of authoritarian governments before they rounded up their citizens on the fast track to genocidal horrors. However, our liberal thought experiments rarely connect us to reality; instead, we watch in abject terror as our intangible philosophical quandaries glaze over the collective consciousness. The self-righteous proudly denounce peaceful protesters as terrorists, surveillance states are cheered as bastions of freedom, and colonial apartheid states are celebrated as democracy manifest. Don’t rock the boat, for the vulnerable fear intensifying reprisals. Don’t rock the boat, because the blind man lounging behind his white picket fence sees no injustice. Don’t rock the boat, as the parasite grows fat from pain and suffering. Don’t rock the boat, as the ladies and gentlemen with silver spoons cry crocodile tears about their self-assigned oppression. Every generation faces this cycle, and the insanity forever toils as schemers manufacture dissent within communities – the magicians who stage smoke-and-mirrors culture wars with the alluring gravity to real power. Yet the little rabbits, plucked from the confines of a black hat, convinced so totally and thoroughly of their lions’ manes, can do nothing but fight amongst themselves. WAKE UP. Cut the bullshit and WAKE UP! 

“WAKE UP”, indeed, Dap (Laurence Fishburne) sledgehammers into the dazed characters, and thus, also towards the audience in the closing moments of the dramedy School Daze (Spike Lee, 1988). Art in all its glorious mediums can at times distinctly capture the flavour of its era; in this case it is a double-edged fate. Lee injects a fresh vision upon the filmmaking space, wielding a “‘by any means necessary’ [approach]… focusing on survivability and success as a ‘final cut’ director in mainstream commercial cinema,”¹ while simultaneously gambling with its artistic shelf life. At times exceedingly-in-your-face (even for Lee’s auteuristic standards), the brilliance of School Daze is in how Lee threads a seemingly contradictory tapestry: cinematographer Ernest Dickerson’s candy-coloured visual palettes; Ruth E. Carter’s striking costume design synthesising vibrant colour theory and multi-textured outfits with politically charged imagery; and Bill Lee’s (Spike Lee’s father) bombastic musical numbers are all imbued with timeless themes of how caste systems gatekeep proximity to white power structures; how internalised hatred invariably and violently boomerangs back onto one’s own community; and the likewise inevitable and cathartic consequences of holding onto one’s principles; ie: “doing the right thing.” Lee and Dickerson frame these poignant themes over the course of a homecoming weekend at Mission College, a fictional Historically Black College and University (HBCU), modelled after Lee’s very own Morehouse.²     

Lee reframes the ancient Greek protagonist-antagonist dynamic originating from Aeschylus’ The Persians,³ into a broader dialectic through which his cinematic moral compass clashes into the stalwart defenders of class systems that are ultimately preventing comm-unity. Julian/Big Brother Almighty (Giancarlo Esposito), leader of Mission’s elite Gamma Phi Gamma fraternity – and by extension the Gamma Ray sorority’s women – fully commits himself towards an exclusive ecosystem of privileged life within Mission College. On the opposite end of the spectrum is Dap’s cohort, comprised of his male friends nicknamed “Da Fellas” and their sisters, the “Jigaboos”,⁴ students from working-class backgrounds. Dap and his allies demand that the college administration boycott, divest, and sanction (BDS) Apartheid South Africa, in order to free their HBCU from complicity with white power structures and become active participants in the fight for a more equitable world. As we navigate through School Daze’s opening credits, we witness the history of Black liberation figures throughout the United States. Dap, Da Fellas, and their BDS movement occupy the steps to President McPherson’s (Joe Seneca) office – who himself resembles Frederick Douglass, both in appearance and as the prescribed mentor to Mission College. 

One cannot ignore the parallels to the current pro-Palestine BDS movement, not just in its multicultural constitution, but also in the ways in which administrations allow fellow students to freely intimidate (and often physically assault) demonstrators as a first line of attack.⁵ Da Fellas, unrepentant in their convictions, continue to camp out and disrupt the public order throughout homecoming weekend. In order to preserve the college’s public image, President McPherson and the Chairman of the Board of Trustees (Art Evans) interrogate Dap. Where physical threats may fail, Dap is so steadfast that he shrugs off these threats. But lo and behold, his Da Fellas do not share his wavelength and, rightly or not, point out their socioeconomic backgrounds: working class, first-generation college attendees. Expulsion shall not be on the cards. Their shared loyalty as friends and as socially conscious citizens might in itself be righteous, but the balance between self-preservation and global community solidarity is razor thin. It is precisely these moments that lift School Daze above its dated ’80s elements, including the licensed soundtrack – E.U.’s “Da Butt”, the homophobic slurs during Da Fellas’ fraternity Step Show, and the sitcom hairstyles. 

Times may change, but authoritarian practices do not. As we have witnessed in recent times, international students are kidnapped in broad daylight,⁶ expelled en masse,⁷ diplomas withheld⁸ and visas threatened,⁹ all due to political or funders’ pressures for academic institutions to divest from regimes upholding apartheid and committing genocide; sometimes for as simple a reason as calling for people to have life, liberty, and the right to self-determination. It is no wonder why a vulnerable student population like Da Fellas desperately call on leaders like Dap to “know when it’s time to shut the fuck up,” as Grady (Bill Nunn) exclaims when they callously brush past these all-too-human fears. School Daze places us squarely at the nexus of theory and praxis, the mechanics for cyclical systemic domination. 

The onus for peace rests on the placidity of the masses who must never rock the boat. On the other hand, inherent rabble-rousers are vital pawns in class warfare. A prime example of this are the Gamma Dogs, the fascistic stormtroopers for Mission College, led by Big Brother Almighty/Julian. The foundational microcosmic dynamic is etched in stone from the onset, when Big Brother Almighty signals his subservient dogs, the light-skinned pledges for the Gamma fraternity (the Gammites). It is here that Lee and Dickerson craft some of the most striking imagery in the entire film: the Gammites’ movements clearly mirror those of chain gangs¹⁰ and, even more significantly, of chattel slavery.¹¹ They are branded with a silver “G” on their foreheads, bound in chains, as they shuffle in lock-step to all of The Almighty’s commands. As we later learn, the Gammites are also held in a warehouse until Julian and the Gamma fraternity members beckon. Most disconcerting Lee-logical, the pledges like Half-Pint (played by the director himself) willingly submit themselves to ritualistic humiliation, for only the chosen few can gain membership to Gamma Phi Gamma. 

Another crucial visual element reinforcing School Daze’s thematic tapestry is Julian’s character design. Throughout most of the film, Julian is styled with a perfectly parted and heavily slicked hair, complete with an impeccably groomed moustache. He wears all-black jodhpurs (riding trousers), which were adopted into military uniforms by high-ranking officers – traces of the black-coloured jodhpurs infamously worn by Nazi commanders. Big Brother Almighty completes his authoritative look with an all-black bomber jacket, sporting a black undershirt and fingerless gloves, for which he wields the Gamma truncheon. On the front of his jacket lies an embroidered bulldog with the inscription “Dog or Die”. The most eye-stabbing element is the skull-and-dog bones logo centred on the back. Based on Big Brother Almighty’s disposition, sadomasochistic tendencies, and his fellow fraternity wardens, it would be hard to bely similarities to the Totenkopf¹² worn by Hitler’s SS units during the Third Reich. Gamma’s brutal hazing rituals are the focal lens through which to view internalised, unresolved, generational self-hatred. Controlling others becomes a type of self-medication and defers any type of reconciliation. One must simply look at the gender dynamics between Da Fellas and Jigaboos, that of equals, as opposed to the Gamma Dogs’ domineering shadow over the Gamma Rays, whom Julian considers part of a corporate entity, wholly subservient to his “masculinity”, about as androgynous as Hitler’s. 

The biggest fools are those who wholeheartedly believe they are lions of the artificial savannah domineering their scrap pile, the cannibalised remains of their own people. This is where we find the Gamma Rays and Gammites, completely devoted to the Gamma sphere of influence. Gamma Rays (aka the Wannabees), a light-skinned sorority, invest entire hedge funds to maintain their meticulous image: perms, manicures, high-end clothes, makeup, and blue contact lenses – subsuming their self-determination to the male gaze and patriarchal standards of high society. Julian’s girlfriend, Jane Toussaint (Tisha Campbell), slavishly devotes herself to Julian while he only considers her a mere tool, a piece of meat for the delusional lions to devour, like Half-Pint will prove after his Gamma initiation.

In order to justify their shallow sense of superiority, the Wannabees antagonise the Jigaboos, a contingent of darker-skinned women with natural hair. Perhaps they see the Jigaboos as a threat simply because of their autonomy, pride, and sense of innate worth, which explodes into a musical set piece, “Straight and Nappy”, that pays homage to Technicolour musicals from MGM’s Golden era with its elaborate choreography, hallucinatory stage, and orchestral soundtrack.¹³ The Wannabees cannot fathom how a group of women like the Jigaboos could sincerely wield community spirit to uplift themselves while simultaneously supporting their brothers-in-arms. The Jigaboos’ distaste for the Wannabees’ superficiality stems from a Malcolm X kind of intelligence and articulation: “You’re not satisfied unless you can talk like white folks, unless you can walk like white folks, unless you eat and sleep like white folks…You’re not this and you’re not that.”¹⁴ The Rays view the world through vaseline-stained contacts, in which the perfumed sorority sisters’ only aim is to maintain an ecosystem structured around privilege. Psychological manipulation centred around the “fear of missing out” rarely needs more than a shiny hook and large enough bait to encourage interminable madness within the warped realities of human undoing.

School Daze

One can only empathise with Dap’s sheer frustration at feeling useless, unheard, and cast away during the Mission College homecoming weekend; with his cousin Half-Pint’s obsession of joining an elitist cult led by Big Brother Almighty; with Da Fellas being intimidated from supporting a BDS movement. And then there’s the apathetic, thoroughly ineffectual administration, too preoccupied with the pomp and circumstance surrounding this madhouse yet still capable of thwarting young people’s futures. Compounded by these events within the university is Dap’s disillusionment at the hands of working-class citizens from the nearby town “at the bottom of the hill.” Leeds the Local Yokel (Samuel L. Jackson) gives Dap and Da Fellas a reality check about their disposition and attitudes as privileged students attending Mission College. Sometimes the only way to stay centred is to wake up from the daze, and loudly ring the bell for all those who are still lost or following false shepherds. So indeed: “WAKE UP”, Dap sledgehammers into the dazed and confused characters – and us. Even Julian is lured towards Dap. They finally see eye-to-eye right before becoming a black and white photo that would fit right into the collage of immortals in the opening credits. To wake up is to do the right thing, and in case we missed it, “wake up” is the opening line of Lee’s next film, Do the Right Thing (1989). If the Gamma Dog Commandant, Julian/Big Brother Almighty, can find a moment of clarity from the wake-up call, so can we, just as lost and even more dazed and gratifyingly confused after watching this revelatory film.

School Daze (1988 USA 121 mins)

Prod Co: Columbia Pictures, Forty Acres & A Mule Filmworks Prod: Grace Blake, Spike Lee, Loretha C. Jones, Monty Ross Dir, Scr: Spike Lee Phot: Ernest Dickerson Mus: Bill Lee Ed: Barry Alexander Brown Art Dir: Allan Trumpler

Cast: Laurence Fishburne, Giancarlo Esposito, Tisha Campbell, Ossie Davis, Joe Seneca, Art Evans, Ellen Holly, Bill Nunn, Spike Lee

Endnotes