The Rise of Tyler Perry
As the superstar returns with "Meet the Browns," one critic discusses his business savvy, his dedicated audience ... and his disheartening mediocrity
By David Walker
Special to MSN Movies
It wasn't all that long ago that the only people who knew Tyler Perry were the loyal fans he had built through his faith-based stage plays. Touring along a modern-day "chitlin' circuit" that catered primarily to black audiences, Perry found success through a series of plays he had written that mixed melodrama and lowbrow comedy with moralizing sermons inspired by his Christian beliefs. It was these plays, many featuring him in the cross-dressing role of an aging black woman named Madea, that helped Perry become the man he is today.
Building upon the success of his plays, which he would film on video and sell on DVD, Perry turned his faith and his limited talent as a writer into an empire, earning a respectable fortune in less than a decade. To his fans he is a talented genius who speaks to the black working and middle class, using faith to build a moral foundation for his work. To his critics he is a savvy businessman with nominal talent, who has used faith-based entertainment to build a powerful media empire the same way Vince McMahon used "sports entertainment" to transform professional wrestling into a money-making machine. And while comparing Perry's plays to professional wrestling may seem like a stretch, both were marginalized forms of live entertainment that thrived through the loyalty of fans who came to see very specific things. In the case of wrestling, it was men in a ring hitting each other with folding metal chairs. In the case of Perry's plays, it was one-dimensional characters facing trying times who are overcome by faith in God and love of Jesus.
When Perry's "Why Did I Get Married?" debuted in October 2007 at No. 1, it was the third film in a row from the Atlanta-based entertainment mogul to reach that coveted spot, and his fourth film to clean up at the box office. Grossing more than $21 million during its opening weekend (with a final gross of approximately $55 million), the success of "Why Did I Get Married?" seemed to come as a surprise to Hollywood. For many, Perry was an unknown quantity, a rising star who made a name for himself outside of mainstream film, but whose string of successes marked the arrival of an undeniable force.
Perry's earlier theatrical films, "Daddy's Little Girls," "Madea's Family Reunion" and "Diary of a Mad Black Woman" (the only one he did not direct), had already earned a collective $140 million-plus, and the opening weekend of "Why Did I Get Married?" was enough to get the industry buzzing about the man and his success. In Entertainment Weekly, Joshua Rich wrote, "Cutting right to the chase, it's clear now more than ever that Perry's appeal goes beyond urban or African American crowds, because you just can't pull off a victory as decisive as this without attracting folks from a diversity of demographics."
While there may be some validity to Rich's statement, it is still based on an ignorant and racist supposition that fails to realistically take into account black consumers. Sure, some white people may be going to see Perry's films, but based on the type of money he is earning it is not a foregone conclusion that he has crossed over. On the contrary: If anything, Perry's success at the box office is more likely than not proof that he is simply getting black people into theaters that otherwise might not go.
There are approximately 37 million black people in the United States. In order for a film to gross $21 million in its opening weekend, it would require 3 million people purchasing tickets at an average cost of $7 each. That means it would take less than 10 percent of all the black people in America (or less than one percent of all Americans) buying tickets to "Why Did I Get Married?" for the film to earn $21 million.
So, that means two things. First, it doesn't take that many people buying tickets for a film to make it to No. 1 at the box office on a slow weekend, and there are certainly enough black people to do so with little problem. Second, whatever success Perry may be finding is partially a result of the entertainment industry both underestimating black consumers and underserving black audiences.
The reality is that, as far as Hollywood is concerned, the demographic that matters the most is white males age 16-24. Most of the executives who run the studios would probably be surprised to find out that there are black women over the age of 30 who want to see movies. This is a sizeable audience that Hollywood has ignored since "How Stella Got Her Groove Back" failed to do the same numbers as "Waiting to Exhale." But Perry has wisely built much of his career catering specifically -- and almost exclusively -- to this demographic. The result is a huge, primarily untapped audience that turns out en masse whenever one of his films opens.
Several weeks after "Why Did I Get Married?" opened, Entertainment Weekly placed Perry at No. 7 on its list of the 50 Smartest People in Hollywood. And, to be sure, Perry is a savvy businessman who has managed to build a small empire for himself that includes books, films, DVD, television and live theater. But what most people fail to either realize or recognize is that Perry's successful business model is a throwback to the days before desegregation in America.
Before the Civil Rights Act of 1964, black entrepreneurs built empires by providing goods and services that were often unavailable to black Americans in the mainstream. This was also true of motion pictures, which had a thriving industry of "race films," many of which were made and distributed by the prolific Oscar Micheaux. These films, which were made from the early 1900s all the way until the late 1940s, catered to a black audience that was seldom being served in mainstream movies. For all intents and purposes, this is the same model Perry has adopted.
By producing films for a population base that is constantly being underestimated, Perry comes across like a genius who has reinvented the wheel. And when you add in the fact that he is astute enough to pander to the churchgoing crowd by always delivering ham-fisted, faith-based sermons in all of his films that reinforce a devotion to God and Jesus, Perry is earning money that he richly deserves -- at least for being smart. But Perry's financial rewards for his actual talent as a filmmaker are dubious at best.
For all the millions of dollars he has managed to rake in from his many projects, Perry is earning his money from audiences so hungry for relatable on-screen representations that they will consume whatever is put in front of them. The often mind-numbing lack of quality in Perry's films serves as evidence that a starving person will eat anything.
While some filmmakers create intricate cinematic portraits utilizing tools akin to the finest brushes money can buy and an endless spectrum of vibrant oils, pastels and acrylics, Perry clumsily uses crayons and markers to color in his paint-by-numbers stories. And even then he has trouble staying inside the lines. His everything-and-the-kitchen-sink stories are driven by tired clichés, mono-dimensional characters, sophomoric comedic timing in need of a laugh track, and flourishes of melodrama that have all the subtlety of a sledgehammer to the face. Even as a playwright, Perry is nowhere close to giving August Wilson or Neil Simon a run for their money. But he still manages to appeal to audiences by mixing cheap laughs with Jesus-loves-you preaching, creating a strange mix of religious sitcom ideology.
None of this is to say that Perry is a terrible filmmaker, because he isn't any worse than a whole lot of people cranking out populist schlock for Hollywood. And if predictable no-brainers served up with a dose of praises to Jesus and hallelujahs are what entertain you, then Perry has just what it takes to lull you into a stupor. But, at the same time, there is a degree of frustration from wondering how truly successful he could be if he simply made something good. The problem is that his loyal fan base will accept whatever he serves up, while at the same time attacking anyone who criticizes his work (when Roger Ebert posted a negative review of "Diary of a Mad Black Woman," it created a vocal uproar where the famous critic was labeled a racist). This leaves Perry in the enviable position of not having to make good work that will still be supported by loyal fans prepared to defend his right to mediocrity.
The chances of Perry moving above and beyond the level of success he currently enjoys is dependent upon him either stepping up his game and making better films or getting a chance to work in Hollywood. Indeed, Perry is ideal for making the move to Hollywood, as he has proven to be a nonthreatening black man who has built much of his success by being a transvestite. If there is one thing Hollywood loves, it is a charismatic black man who is willing to trade his masculinity for success by putting on a dress.
But the reality is that Perry doesn't need to go to Hollywood, or any other part of mainstream entertainment that still scratches its head over how to serve black audiences. We are, after all, talking about a collective industry that once said rap and hip-hop were passing fads that would never make money. This is an industry that has forgotten how "The Cosby Show" turned NBC into a juggernaut in the 1980s, not to mention all the black programs used to launch FOX, UPN and WB. This is also an industry that repeatedly claims that films with black actors don't do good box office overseas, only to have Will Smith's "I Am Legend" make more in foreign sales than domestic.
With his new film, "Meet the Browns," industry eyes will be watching to see what sort of money the film makes on opening weekend. What will be interesting to see is if the film manages to carry Perry to a higher level of success, and if the film does any business overseas. What will also be interesting to see is if Hollywood can learn a valuable lesson from Perry, and begin to cater to black audiences by telling stories that exist outside the narrow confines of what the studios think
He's breaking ground for Blacks in the industry. Yet, on the stage of Star Trek...no one knew who he is and what kind of dollars he's rep'n. He somehow hit the vein with "chitlin circuit"...the disenfranchise self made Black-owned entertainment dollar. 
