The Watermelon Woman

I liked how The Watermelon Woman blends a fictional narrative with real historical questions. Cheryl Dunye's storytelling is both creative and personal, making for a film that feels intimate and reflective. The indie production value is noticeable, and it's not a movie that will wow you with visuals, but its heart and purpose shine through. A solid film that's definitely worth checking out if you're into indie or queer cinema. The film's style is a bit unconventional, and it's not always the smoothest ride, but it's an important piece of cinema that sheds light on stories we don't often hear. It may not be for everyone, but I found it thought-provoking and original.

Really great movie loved the documentary style seaming with the actual film fun characters great transitions inbetween shots and enjoyed how random some of the cuts or scene transitions are

There are themes and issues in this film that are obvious, but well defined and used - lesbianism, racism, interracial relationships.... and the ups and downs of working in a video rental shop. All that aside, I have to say that, for me "The Watermelon Woman" is all about obsession. Ah - obsession! The obsession in this case is our leading lady's obsession with a marginal black actress in black & white movies of days long gone by, credited in the films on as "The Watermelon Woman." Who was she... what was her real name... why was she someone to obsess upon? Our lovely leading lesbian begins a journey of body and mind to find the truth of the Watermelon Woman and her life. I tell you obsession is a wondrous thing... when you find something (or, if you're me, many things) to obsess on, your life will be filed with the richness of discovery.. and you'll never be a boring party guest. So, have a look at "The Watermelon Woman," who knows you may just find yourself obsessed. Super sweet.

When we first see clips of old film actor Fae Richards, the person the protagonist (Cheryl Dunye) is researching, it's immediately apparent that she's fictional, and I initially thought it was an unfortunate choice. But as it played out, it hit me: what does it say when a black lesbian director invents this person, and the researcher has a hard time finding information on her? Probably that there simply was not adequate representation, and that history is usually whitewashed. At the end of the credits, the line "Sometimes you have to create your own history" gave me goosebumps. Along the way there are things on the surface that will undoubtedly draw reactions - the wildly uneven acting and indie production value, and a sex scene that seemed restrained and erotic to me but which unfortunately drew the ire of conservatives in Congress. Aside from the representation the film gives us, it's filled with things that critique the world this woman lives in. There's the obvious barb in the fictional actor being dubbed "Watermelon Woman" and being famous for her role in "Plantation Memories." Another is the librarian explaining to her that she should check the "black reference" files for the old film star, and the silent little look she exchanges with her friend. There's also the white film professor explaining how modern black scholars have it wrong relative to the offensiveness of the "mammy" figure, which was brilliant. It comes within the community too; when her friend frowns upon the relationship she's having with a white woman, she says it's nobody's business who she's having sex with. Amen. Despite the choppiness of a few scenes which almost seem like parodies of themselves, I genuinely enjoyed this film. It's creative, empowering, and well-paced in its 85 minutes. There's also something pretty powerful about the message at its center.

A cause for celebration, this 20th Anniversary DVD release. The Watermelon Woman was a revelation back in 1996 and it is -- shame on us -- perhaps even more to-the-point today.

Seated by myself at the Film Forum here in NYC, 1996, a gay non-Black guy, I was expecting a variation on the Melvin Van Peebles satire from the early seventies, The Watermelon Man. But a mere five minutes into The Watermelon Woman, I knew I was in the presence of something special, indeed. Here was a tsunami of vivid, fresh air.

Cheryl Dunye -- writer, director, star -- had created something utterly new. Here she was, placing a Black Lesbian at the center, unapologetic about her same-sex longing and needs, about her rich magnetic Blackness, her fierce yet tender femaleness. For me, used to seeing Lesbians or gay men like myself held up for mockery or derision or contempt, it was a revelation to see Lesbians portrayed as just part of the human tapestry, regular people making it through the day, paying bills, falling in and out of lust and love.

For that alone, The Watermelon Woman deserves high praise. But it is about so much more. For Ms. Dunye uses her Blackness to probe an America which has never come to terms with its deep racist history. Ms. Dunye confronts it with wit and candor. Her character is researching a beautiful Black actress from the 1930s, who never received a credit in her films. It's like she never existed, a mere celluloid presence, nothing more.

As she probes deeper into the actress's past, Ms. Dunye begins peeling away her own reality. As both a Lesbian and a Black woman, in an America which marginalizes Lesbians, Blacks, women. She is forced to question assumptions about what it means to be a Lesbian and both a woman and a woman of color.

And here is where The Watermelon Woman becomes as timely as it was back in 1996. For in confronting her own marginalization, Ms. Dunye makes crystal clear why today's Black Lives Matter is so important to today's America. Like any work of art -- and make no mistake, The Watermelon Woman is a work of art, indeed -- meanings change over time. And though Black Lives Matter hadn't yet become a rallying cry, its genesis is inherent in The Watermelon Woman.

Cheryl Dunye, you and The Watermelon Woman are a oner!