An illuminating study of the acting of Rege Jean Page
On two occasions recently, I’ve written glowing accounts of the mixed-race actor, Rege Jean Page. I concluded one post, “The best business course I’ve ever had (March 9, 2021),” by noting that direct change in human behavior is best facilitated by subversive activities. I provided a description of RJP as a superb example of subversive behavior in the role of Bridgerton’s Duke of Hastings.
By subversive activity I refer to behavior which undermines an established cultural, political or legal system. In this study, I focus on the distinction between two-dimensional and three-dimensional characterizations in acting as subversive example.
In film and literature, three-dimensional characters are complex and unique with fully developed lives. They can be thoughtless and mean, unassuming and careful, ignorant, ordinary or wise, healthy or debilitated, poor, middle-class or wealthy. They can also be outgoing or reserved, friendly and gracious, distant and calculating, handsome or plain, aspirational or cowardly. Three-dimensional characters depict the richness and diversity of being human, even, as in the case of the contrasting emotions and behaviors from invulnerable to vulnerable, revealed brilliantly in Page’s Duke of Hastings.
Two-dimensional characters, in stark contrast, do not display completely developed human lives. They cannot fully engage our emotions. They have few attributes a viewer or reader can relate to. Seen from only one or two sides, they reveal a seriously limited, partial humanity. As much as I love Eddie Murphy, he’s a typical Black example of limited characterizations. In Beverly Hills Cop, for example, he focuses almost solely on the comic. And even when an opportunity presented itself in a relationship with a woman, the character displayed little more than personal interest and warmth. Do not misunderstand: this is not the actor’s doing. Two-dimensional characterizations are always the writer and the studio’s doing, whatever the role. The worst form of two-dimensional Black acting I’ve ever seen was Hattie McDaniel as Mammy in Gone with the Wind. Sure, she got an Oscar for the role. But the Oscar confirmed only a less than human, two-dimensional role for Blacks. When you walk away from the movie, what you take with you is a Black woman as supportive, warm, inferior, over-weight—and subservient. Someone you might trust serving you and your family, but without full-blown human behavior, intellect and emotion.
Archetypes and the racist persona
Following Freud and Jung, many analysts in recent years view racism as primordial images that have been filtered through personal, social and cultural contexts. Tests of implicit bias are available on the web, though some results have been challenged. Students of bias indicate that though the bias is present in the unconscious, it need not control relationships. If personal bias can be identified, these images of racism can be revised and educated, creating a highly tolerant reality.
Re-education
As a result of RJP’s discussion of his mixed-race, 3-dimensional role in Bridgerton, I suspected my images might be racially biased. Very curious, I decided that a simple, unsophisticated analysis might yield some useful insights. Wow! I got a lot more out of my analysis than I expected. Clearly, I’ve got to make some attitude adjustments to have a more healthy, positive humanism.
Because of my background in rhetorical criticism, I believed I could assess the actor’s portrayal of the Duke of Hastings, even though an amateurish, simple study. And, I thought, if I compared the first episode with the last episode, which would normally provide the dramatic situation and resolution, I might surface a fairly clear picture of the Duke’s role dimensions. Even simple critiques can sometimes provide helpful insight. As I suspected, the results were not pretty. Learning theory reveals that simple studies like this are capable of extensive, attitude-changing insight and changed behaviors. Such studies can assist in the creation of alternative reality structures. More tolerant perspectives on Blacks. That is exactly what happened!
Because of the time investment, the depth of even this simple study, I doubt that I’ll ever look at Blacks and Black actors in the same way again. However, before you look at my conclusions, it’s important to understand my Black experience.
Background
My background may well be different than most whites of my age. I’ve had Black acquaintances and a few Black friends since I was in middle-school in suburban Detroit. Although as I reminded a Black classmate at our 50th reunion (class of 1952), we split by color and class when we entered high school. Blacks ate at their lunch tables and Whites at theirs. Upper middle-class students ate at their tables and blue-color students ate at theirs. But at that class reunion, what was very intriguing was that when a Black classmate walked toward me, I put out my arms, hugged her and kissed her on the cheek and she responded similarly. And then she said, “thank you.” I was surprised and said “thank you?” “Yes,” she responded. “You’re the only white male that kissed me.” “What world do they live in,” I asked. “Obviously, not yours,” she responded. She was attractive, well-educated and had served as a high school principal overseas for the US Army. Unusual for that time period, more than half of the class of 225 people were at least college grads. That included actually nine—that’s right—nine PhDs, a couple lawyers and physicians, along with still more mechanical engineers (it was the auto-capital--Detroit), and those who had excellent work backgrounds, but little to no college experience. Since only 9% of Americans from the early 1950s had college degrees, the high school class was more than a little unique. But with all that educational background, I would have expected more tolerance and acceptance than I saw that night and the next morning. But I was wrong.