Charming, engrossing, and socially relevant, the
small-scale dramedy Claudine is an anomaly among ’70s pictures about
African-American life. Eschewing the militant politics of underground films and
the sleazy grit of blaxploitation flicks, Claudine tells a simple human
story in an accessible style. Further, the movie is rooted in respect for
individuals who survive life below the poverty line with their dignity intact.
Although this is an unmistakably a black story, exploring the myriad ways
social ills complicate life for a family in Harlem, the themes of Claudine
are relatable to anyone who has faced difficulty balancing family and finances.
If the movie has a noteworthy flaw, it’s that Claudine sometimes employs
sitcom-style cuteness in terms of dialogue and presentation—but the underlying
story is so grounded that the cuteness is at most an occasional distraction.
Diahann Carroll, who received an Oscar nomination for her performance, plays
Claudine Price, the single mother of six who’s squeaking by on welfare after
being abandoned by every man to whom she’s been married or with whom she’s been
romantically involved. The beautiful but tough Claudine catches the eye of
jovial trash collector Rupert Marshall (James Earl Jones), who eventually
persuades Claudine to go out on a date. Rupert encounters resistance as soon as
he meets Claudine’s kids, who haven’t met many trustworthy men. Nonetheless,
Rupert wins over all of Claudine’s spirited offspring except her oldest son,
Charles (Laurence Hilton-Jacobs), who has a chip on his shoulder the size of
Manhattan Island.
Aside from the lively performances and sensitive writing, the
most interesting aspect of Claudine is the film’s exploration of what
welfare means in the life of a woman like Claudine. She can’t make enough money
through menial jobs to support her children, so she needs government
assistance, but even welfare can’t bridge the gap between expenses and income.
Therefore, Claudine must lie to her welfare officer once she starts dating
Rupert, because, technically, his participation in the family represents
additional income—even though his presence in the long run isn’t guaranteed.
It’s fascinating to watch a proud woman navigate this moral quagmire, and it’s
informative to see how Rupert recognizes that his interest in Claudine carries economic
baggage. Given the feather-light premises of most romantic comedies, which tend
to involve characters with all the options in the world, Claudine
represents an unusually plugged-in take on the rom-com genre.
It’s also a great
pleasure to see the chemistry between Carroll and Jones. Not to downplay the
many virtues of Carroll’s leading performance, the mixture of anguish and
approachability within Jones’ performance gives Claudine much of its
texture. Guiding these actors is director John Berry, a veteran of the studio
era who was blacklisted for his left-leaning politics in the ’50s; Claudine
was one of several African-American-themed movies Berry directed upon his
return from Hollywood exile. Another notable Claudine player is composer
Curtis Mayfield, who created the score as well as a handful of songs that are
performed by Gladys Knight & the Pips.
Claudine: GROOVY
