The intersectional issues at play here are explosive, and the documentary does a good job of unpacking it. #MeToo founder Tarana Burke, author Kimberlé Crenshaw, and others, speak of the specific challenges black women face when they come forward against a black man, the fears that their allegations will play into white America's history of viewing black men as violent. Dixon worries about adding "fuel to the fire of the sexually aggressive black man" and says, chillingly, "I decided to take one for the team." There's also the fear of being called a "traitor" to their race, due to the unspoken (and spoken) understanding that black women are expected to protect black men, who have been historically singled out in America for punishment. All of this acts as a silencer on black women. Many of the survivors in "On the Record" mention remembering the less-than-supportive reaction of the black community to people like Desiree Washington, Mike Tyson's accuser. Many of them talk about Anita Hill's testimony.
There's a section in "On the Record" focusing on the misogyny found in much of hip-hop, the lyrics, the music videos, etc., and how it normalized a culture of disrespect towards women. The attempts to connect this to misogynistic lyrics in white rock 'n roll—to show it's not just an issue with hip-hop—is so sloppily done it feels like an afterthought, tossed together on the fly. The whole subject—how the content of art affects attitudes in the "real" world—deserves a more thoughtful discussion than is given here.
I couldn't help but think as I watched "On the Record": where are the interviews with all the male artists Drew Dixon not only promoted, but helped launch? Where are the male artists she fought for, the ones she helped usher to fame, awards, to success beyond their wildest dreams? Crickets. Ziering and Dick have spoken about how challenging it was to get men to speak with them on camera. With kudos to the few outliers, it's a disgrace more men haven’t shown their support.
Mayo's statement at the top of this review is the dark and urgent subtext of every single one of these stories. Beyond laying out the accusations against Simmons, "On the Record" is a deeply mournful portrait of lost potential, of a woman run out of a business that she not only loved, but helped create. What do we lose when women decide to step aside, to resign, to walk away, because the "price of admission" into the culture (i.e. tolerating sexual harassment, not speaking out, being "a good sport") is too high? "On the Record" does a lot of things very well, but what it does best of all is back up Mayo's eloquent and pained statement. Everybody loses when women go away.
Available now on HBO Max.
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