I saw the film when I was 13, a case of my parents’ being absent-minded or progressive, but either way, a fluke. I had never seen a character break through the fourth wall, so it felt as if I were hallucinating when the movie opened with Nola Darling (Tracy Camilla Johns) wriggling out of a neatly made bed and talking straight to the camera. “I want you to know,” she says, “the only reason I’m consenting to this is because I wish to clear my name.”
Nola seeks to defend her reputation from an evergreen double standard. She’s making time with three suitors: Jamie, who’s clearly her soulmate; prissy male model Greer, and hip-hop geek Mars Blackmon (played by Lee). Naturally, she’s labeled a tramp for playing the field like a man. The film’s gender politics are as polarizing now as then: does Nola own her sexuality? Or is that simply what she tells herself to justify bedding losers?
The fact that gender and sexuality, as opposed to race, are the film’s conversation points is proof of its singularity. Unlike the blaxploitation-era directors who paved his way, Lee chose to make a film about people who happened to be black, rather than one about black people.
“She’s Gotta Have It” is clearly not the work of a veteran director. The performances are middling, and the movie often looks so ramshackle you wonder what Lee did with the rest of his meager $175,000 budget. But he still managed to create a confident debut with hints of the voice and flair he later perfected. The denizens of Spike’s world are smart, subtle and talky, kind of like the sophisticated black Brooklynite that I like to think I’ve become. The verdict on Nola? Still pending. But the referendum on Spike Lee’s talent has long since come back in his favor.
