Yass, Queen

Cleopatra's "Infinite Variety"

Cleopatras, clockwise from top left: Theda Bara, Adele James, Vivien Leigh, Gal Gadot, Claudette Colbert, Elizabeth Taylor

In days of old beside the Nile, a famous Queen there dwelt

Her clothes were few but full of style, her figure slim and swelt

On every man that wandered by, she pulled the Theda Bara eye 

And every one observed with awe, that her work was swift, but never raw.

I'd be like Cleopatterer, if I could have my way.

Each man she met she went and kissed, and she'd dozens on her waiting list.

I wish that I had lived there, beside the pyramid,

For a girl today don't get the scope that Cleopatterer did.

~”Cleopatterer,” lyrics by P.G. Wodehouse

She’s at it again. That legendary seductress, homewrecker and disruptor of empires, Cleopatra, is making waves once more. This time, the controversy is over the casting of Black actress Adele James as Queen Cleopatra, the Netflix series produced by Jada Pinkett-Smith. We live in bitchy times, my friends, and there are few hot button issues that create more tsuris these days than the concept of “cultural appropriation.” I have so much to say on that odious subject, and will—here and in Cornfield posts to come. So, back to ol’ Cleo.

Actually, back to Mr. Shakespeare. There is the most delicious “meta” moment toward the end of Antony and Cleopatra, in which, despondent at the death of her lover Mark Antony, Cleopatra contemplates her suicide whilst musing, pessimistically, upon how history will depict them both:

Nay, ’tis most certain, Iras. Saucy lictors
Will catch at us like strumpets, and scald rhymers
Ballad us out o’ tune. The quick comedians
Extemporally will stage us, and present
Our Alexandrian revels. Antony
Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see
Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness
I’ th’ posture of a whore.
(V.ii.210–217)

“Saucy lictors.” Isn’t that fab? Saucy Lictor may have to be my new drag name.

Mr. Shakespeare understood, long before Churchill, that history is written by the victors, and more—that history becomes legend becomes fiction in the mouths of common folks (you know, those saucy lictors). Cleopatra laments that her queenly glory, and the epic love she shared with Antony, will become Roman propaganda; reduced to a tale of debauchery and adultery, with herself depicted as a whore. Not only will her legacy be a tawdry theatrical in ages to come, but a “squeaking boy” will portray her. Of course, in 1607, this quip would have been delivered by just such a boy, since boys played women on the Jacobean stage. This bit of Shakespearean mischief must have slayed ‘em at the Globe, and it’s as wise a commentary as it is funny.

We can’t possibly know, really, what Cleopatra looked like, and certainly Shakespeare’s concept of her was a 17th century English guy’s interpretation of a 16th century English guy’s translation of Plutarch’s Lives of The Noble Greeks and Romans, a history written by a 1st century Greek guy who became a Roman. Talk about intersectionality. Nevertheless, the Bard’s conception of the legendary Queen is pretty much where popular legend begins. It’s on screen where she became the glam icon and coveted star turn she remains to this day.

Silent film had “the vamp,” Theda Bara. Cecil B. DeMille glorified his muse, Claudette Colbert, into a lamé-draped goddess. George Bernard Shaw’s vivacious kitten was immortalized by Vivien Leigh. And, of course, in one of the most controversial, extravagant, expensive, epic flops of all time, the divine Elizabeth Taylor defined Cleopatra as that once in a lifetime star-making role. From then on, if you play Cleo, you’ve made it.

It’s interesting to watch the controversy swirling around the casting of Ms. James in the Netflix series, and where the pushback is coming from. Of course, there’s the usual reflexive protest from more conservative quarters; they were already riled up over the whole Little Mermaid thing. But there’s a less dismissible, legitimate outcry coming from Egyptian filmmakers, historians and Egyptologists, who are crying “blackwashing,” a term that’s new to me, but one which, I suspect, we will hear more and more.

Personally, I think Cleopatra is one of those exotic parts that lends itself to all kinds of diverse casting possibilities. The stars of classic cinema I mentioned were white because they had to be, due to the Production Code and the racial intolerance of the time. So it’s curious that in these times of racial sensitivity, Netflix didn’t give us an Egyptian Cleopatra. I don’t blame Egyptians for being outraged.

I don’t believe Ms. Pinkett-Smith intended to culturally appropriate, but she did, by the rigid standards of the Woke. “Impact is more important than Intent,” right…? Perhaps, being Black, she doesn’t believe she can culturally appropriate. Is it like the rejection of the notion of reverse racism? Black people can’t be racist, even unconsciously? Ms. Pinkett-Smith has defended her choice, saying that she wanted to create images of greatness her daughter could see herself in—and that’s lovely of course. Why shouldn’t a Black actress enter that pantheon of screen Queens of the Nile? It’s not a new idea. Remember in the film of the musical Dreamgirls, when Beyoncé, as pop superstar Deena Jones, is being groomed for the movies by her obsessive husband Curtis (Jamie Fox)? The vehicle is Cleopatra.

I saw wonderful Black actress Tamara Tunie (you know her as the coroner, Melinda Warner, from Law & Order) on stage as Shakespeare’s Cleopatra, opposite Robert Cuccioli as Antony. She was fabulous. I think the role lends itself to the casting of people of color, as the story is so much about the invasion and occupation of one culture by another; the contrast can intensify the confrontation between titanic leaders of very different worlds. I had more trouble with the series Anne Boleyn, and the problematic casting of Black actress Jodie Turner-Smith in the title role. She’s a fine actress. My quibble was from an historical perspective. We do know what Anne Boleyn looked like. She was the mother of Queen Elizabeth I, and we certainly know what she looked like. The casting of a Black actress illuminated nothing for me about the character or her tumultuous life, and it felt forced and distracting. The Anne Boleyn legend has been done far better, multiple times, from Anne of the Thousand Days, to The Tudors and Wolf Hall. But trends are trends, and diversity is the order of the day, n’est ce pas?

Jodie Turner-Smith as Anne Boleyn

Which brings me to the real point I want to make here. I truly sympathize with the passionate ire from Egyptian people and their cultural leaders, and the umbrage they’re taking at what they see as cultural theft. Their ancestors saw their holy places and ancient tombs pillaged, and the treasure looted by Western marauders. Why shouldn’t they bristle at the idea that a Black Brit should take the role of one of their legends when there might be a really worthy Egyptian actress out there with potential to be an icon and inspiration for some little Egyptian girl, who might see herself in her culture’s greatest Queen?

I’ve become friendly with a personable young man who owns a small business in my neighborhood. He’s a native New Yorker who grew up in a tough, predominantly Black community in Canarsie, Brooklyn. We chatted about this one time, and he told me he was pretty much the only white guy in his high school class. I hadn’t speculated on his race or ethnicity, but from his name—Yousef—and his dark eyes and hair, I hadn’t guessed white. Yesterday, I dropped by his shop, and casually mentioned the Cleopatra controversy, as I was planning this post. Turns out Yousef is Egyptian. He has some choice thoughts about it all, let me tell you. Yousef, while he considers himself white, is simultaneously passionate about his Egyptian identity, and definitely feels insulted by the portrayal of Cleopatra by a Black actress. He chafes at what he sees as overkill by Woke culture inserting itself into everything, and he may have a point. The TV and Film industry seems to be imposing diverse casting on everything, even when—as in the case of Anne Boleyn—it simply doesn’t work. I see this as growing pains, as our culture explores a new vision of diversity. American culture always grabs a trend and runs with it as far as it will go, usually glutting the market until the trend, and we, are exhausted. But these days, with concerning innovations like the recent dictate of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences requiring diversity hiring quotas in all areas of a film’s production—on and offscreen—to be eligible for the Oscars, it’s something that’s here to stay. But diverse should be diverse, right?

I watch a lot of content. I’m a writer and actor and I need to be up on what’s being created. And while the new acronym, BIPOC (Black Indigenous People of Color), is the popular catchall for racial diversity, it’s also a telling embodiment of what I see as today’s Hierarchy of the Oppressed. Black people, having been brought here as slaves, are first, followed by Indigenous Americans, whose lands were taken by genocidal colonialism. Oh, yeah—and then everyone else not white. If I were a POC, I can’t imagine I would feel great about the way literally millions and millions of people from hundreds of cultures are lumped together as “the lesser oppressed.” This BIPOC Great Chain of Being may be the reason that “diversity” these days seems to manifest primarily as Black representation. Aside from the great series Three Pines, I’ve seen no surge in Native American stories or in the casting of Indigenous actors in featured roles. So much for being Number Two. I think we all can agree there are many more diverse faces on stage, on TV and in films than ever before, nevertheless, right now, the culture is decidedly Afrocentric. But, Egyptian stars of note…? Name one.

Think like a Queen. A Queen is not afraid to fail. Failure is another stepping stone to greatness. ~Oprah Winfrey

I don’t blame some folks for wishing that Ms. Pinkett-Smith had demonstrated some of the racial and cultural sensitivity that she and others in the Black artistic community are so forcefully demanding for themselves. Perhaps she knows that Egyptians, like my friend Yousef, are considered white, and hey—white people are fair game, right? Yeah. No.

Thinking there’s only one way to be white, ignoring all the hundreds of ethnicities, cultures and religious identities within that massive generalization, smacks of the ignorance and the kind of lazy racism and bias social warriors and Black Lives Matter activists are railing against. This is rather rich coming from Ms. Pinkett-Smith, a Black woman who notoriously coerced her Black husband, on the greatest night of his career, to slap a superstar Black comedian on international television, simply because he commented on her haircut. Was that the greatness she wants her daughter to see? You know, actually, come to think of it… that’s a move out of the Cleopatra playbook. After all, she did goad her lover into defending their illicit relationship in a disastrous battle with his own brother-in-law and the entire Roman Empire which proved catastrophic for them both. Ah, men. Some will do anything for a pretty face—whatever its color.