My Inner Movie Critic Re-emerges

I have insomnia, so I’m often up late an night vegetating in front of the television. Some time ago, I was treated to this train-wreck of a movie:

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I watched in stunned horror. It was like not being able to look away from a car accident. WTF does Lindsay Lohan or Disney know about the underlying theme of that Stevie Wonder song? I grew up with InnerVisions and Music of My Mind, those albums spoke to me, and seeing a White girl pretending it applied to her just because she has to work at a supermarket after school was offensive to me, since it ignores the main point of the song. And La Lohan rapping? I think I lost brain cells just from watching.

Well, I can be slow, but give me a year or two and maybe I’ll get it.

And I got it. It’s about appropriation. I mean, look at the dancing: it’s a sterile Disney-ized version of hip-hop. Hell, the entire thing is a whitewashing of Black culture and economic issues, torturously twisted to become White-centric, with some People of Color as peripheral figures (dancers, singers) to mimic diversity. What’s next, Stevie Wonder is really a White guy?

Man, I have got to get me some Ambien.