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Arts & Entertainment
Director Dusts off cultural film
Movie depicts the struggle of the African-American experience
By Stacie Hakel
Staff Reporter
The beat of a drum and the sound
of field cries echo as dust sifts through
the hands of an African-American.
After winning the 1989 Jury Prize
for the Best Film of the Decade with
“Illusions,” Julie Dash is at it again
with “Daughters of the Dust”
Dash brings out the problems that
the Gullah people face on the eve of
their migration to the north.
The film shows the conflict that
the women of the Gullah family must
endure as they hold on to the tradi
tions and beliefs that they are accus
tomed to, although they seek new
culture and education from the main
land.
The film focuses on the Peazant
family with Nana Peazant (Cora Lee
Day) as the matriarch. Being an eld
erly woman, Nana tries to convince
the family to stay with her and stick to
their traditional way of living.
The pregnant Eula Peazant (Alva
Rogers), granddaughter to Nana, car
ries the “Unborn Child” (Kai-Lynn
Warren) in her womb. Eula sticks
close to tradition while the rest of the
family drifts off in the excitement of
the migration.
The members of the fam ily experi
ence visions of the Unborn Child when
Yellow Mary Peazant (Barbara-O)
and Viola Peazant (Cheryl Lynn
Bruce) return home from the main
land, bringing with them new tradi
tions and ideas.
Unborn Child symbolizes the du
ality that African-Americans experi
ence in the United States, as it has one
foot in this world and one foot in
another.
Set in 1902, in the sea islands of the
south, Dash has captured the beauty
of the beach with its dark, sensual
colors. The ritualistic beat of the tribal
chants helps to set the mood for this
film.
Dash, having her own Gullah heri
tage from her father’s side, gave her
the incentive to write “Daughters of
the Dust.”
“I’d never thought about it that
much until I went to college,’’ said
Dash.
“Then I started learning about the
Sea Islands, and the West African
culture that’s still prevalent there, and
I realized things like why my father
had a particular accent... the stories
from my childhood began to make
See DUST on 10
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Pro wrestling is family fun
I was seated in an uncomfortable
folding metal chair, had my $2 Dixie
cup of Cherry Coke in my hand, a $3
saucer of nachos covered with a tea
spoon of cheese on my lap and was
surrounded by a couple thousand
people screaming at the top of their
lungs for no apparent reason.
I knew it was a night for profes
sional wrestling at the Omaha Civic
Auditorium.
Gerry
Beltz
I stepped out fora moment, fora bit
of cooler air, but quickly found that
the area outside the auditori um was an
asthmatics’ nightmare. Since the au
ditorium itself is a smoke-free zone,
anyone having a “nic-fit”, as I call it,
had to step out for a smoke. I almost
did the drill of “Slop, Drop, and Roll,
(your name), Roll!” I figured my
chances would be better inside with
the screaming maniacs.
In the arena itself, there were people
selling novelties and food every way
you could look. One guy was selling
$5 programs that also happened to
include a merchandise catalog from
the wrestling federation that was ap
pearing that night. You know, $20
dollar teddy bears that are wearing a
good guy t-shirt or a $16 t-shirt with
the likeness of some bad wrestler on
the front. The list went on and on.
To my right was a large, burly man
selling football -sized clouds of cotton
candy (flavored lint and cobwebs, in
my book) for $1.25 each.
There was still about ten minutes
before the match was supposed to
start, and I began searching the crowd
on the off-chance that I might see a
familiar face.
Of course the majority (about 80%)
of the audience was under 12 years of
age, and I noticed that the more kids
an adult was supervising, the greater
the quantity of alcohol or nicotine the
perron consumed.
Of course, there were exceptions
to this. Several parents had brought
their youngsters here because this was
quality family entertainment.
Serving alcoholic beverages at a
place with “quality family entertain
ment.” Hmmm....
The lights dimmed. My colleague
Todd, a storehouse of professional
wrestling information, returned from
playing video games. The crowd
started screaming even louder.
“Here we go,” I thought.
Most males in the arena were im
pressed with the way it started. A
leggy, salon-baked blonde woman was
the announcer for the evening. She
stepped into the ring amid a cornuco
pia of whistles and catcalls. For those
that weren’t loo close to the ring, she
probably looked very attractive.
How does one audition or apply for
a job like that? I can just picture it in
my mind:
Applicant: “The alphabet? All of
it?”
interviewer: She s hired.
She announced some rules for the
evening. No smoking in the arena, no
pictures may be taken for reproduc
tion that would result in a profit and
we couldn’t throw anything in or to
wards the ring. There were probably
some other rules that she stated, but I
was laughing too hard to hear them.
We listened to the national an
them, looked at a beat-up (yet awe
inspiring) American flag and the lights
dimmed down some more.
“Okay,” I thought, “now it’s RE
ALLY going to start”
This time I was right.
There were a total of seven matches
that evening, but it would be asinine
to describe them all (there were a lot
of similarities in the matches). In
stead, I'U try to hit on some of the
highlights and interesting points of
the evening.
Possibly the most heartbreaking
See WRESTLE on 9
