From early examples of racial cinema to the reserved rooms of the 1920s and the rise of blaxploitation in the 1970s, the exhibition at the Museum of African-American Cinema centers on a long and evolving thread within American film history. The Oscars, in this context, are noted not only for celebrating stars and directors but also for highlighting figures long overlooked by major Hollywood studios (citation: museum narrative).
Under the theme Renewal: Black Cinema, the Hollywood Academy opens this Sunday to unveil an ambitious journey through the secret history of the seventh art between 1898 and 1971. This section presents a scene in which many filmmakers operated independently, sometimes in secrecy, to craft stories that reflect the lives and experiences of Black communities across the United States (citation: exhibition curators).
“Black audiences have existed since cinema began,” states Ava DuVernay, the director and producer of Selma, during the exhibition’s opening remarks. “Now, for the first time, one can appreciate the history in all its richness and vitality.” Her words accompany a display that emphasizes the depth and vitality of Black cinematic production (citation: curator interview).
The collection makes a clear turn away from purely political justification and instead centers on scenes, posters, scripts, and costumes that together tell a broader story of Black cinema. The aim is to illuminate a vibrant spectrum of work beyond conventional caricatures, situating this history within a broader cultural context (citation: curatorial statement).
The opening sequence begins with a kiss. A scene from the 1898 short, Something Good – Negro Kiss, records Saint Sutlle and Gertie Brown sharing a moment that is often cited as the first affectionate depiction of an African-American couple on film. This moment is treated as a milestone in showing intimacy and humanity on screen, a departure from earlier stereotypes (citation: film history notes).
The portrayal of tenderness between two performers marks a turning point in representing the African-American population beyond prevailing prejudices. Although the film itself fell into neglect, a copy was discovered in the United States and later in Norway in 2016, highlighting how fragile archival preservation has been for this era (citation: restoration update).
Since that discovery, a genre known as racial cinema began to take shape. Independent producers started creating films specifically for African-American audiences, often produced outside the major studio system and shown in venues that served Black communities (citation: industry history).
The Lincoln Motion Picture Company, founded in Los Angeles in 1916, is highlighted as an early advocate of this approach—working outside the Hollywood studios and pursuing funding through alternate means, as reminded by Raúl Guzmán, one of the museum’s curators (citation: gallery talk).
Films of this era were shown in independent theaters, at special events for African-American audiences, and in community spaces such as churches. They cultivated a strong following, offering stories that resonated with everyday life and communal resilience (citation: audience reception).
Many narratives revolved around overcoming hardship in the face of discrimination, as in the 1916 film Won the Colored American Team’s Escape, whose plot follows a freed slave who buys land and participates in broader social transformation. These stories fulfilled a core cinema function—providing hope and instilling a sense of possibility within a community facing systemic barriers (citation: film synopsis).
Experts note that the era featured a wide range of genres, including drama, mystery, and even horror. Religious motifs also appeared with notable frequency, and the portrayal of increasingly complex Black characters offered texture beyond the expectations of mainstream Hollywood productions of the time (citation: curatorial analysis).
Despite the era’s creative vigor, many celluloid films suffered from poor preservation, leaving promotional posters as the most common surviving artifacts of this cinema. The gaps in archival material underscore the fragility of early Black film history and the importance of ongoing preservation efforts (citation: preservation report).
Additional galleries remember individuals such as Josephine Baker, the first Black actress to star in a major motion picture with Siren of the Tropics (1927), and the Nicholas Brothers, whose performance in Stormy Weather (1943) is celebrated as one of cinema’s greatest musical moments (citation: performance history).
Sidney Poitier’s landmark Oscar win as Best Actor for Lilies of the Field (1964) is also highlighted for its significance within civil rights-era cinema, marking a pivotal moment when Black filmmakers and actors gained broader visibility as major studios began to lose their monopolies in the television era. This shift amplified the purchasing power and creative freedom of Black communities (citation: award history).
In this period, blaxploitation rose in the early 1970s as a boom in which Black directors and stars began to secure larger budgets and broader promotions. Figures like Gordon Parks, Melvin Van Peebles, and Ossie Davis are acknowledged for their roles in expanding access and visibility for Black-led filmmaking (citation: industry context).
The exhibition sits within a museum that has chosen to stage a broader reflection: the Oscars do not merely celebrate acclaimed works but also confront the faults, embarrassments, or overlooked achievements of the industry. The goal is to ensure that forgotten voices from cinema’s past are honored and remembered (citation: institutional mission).
As curators emphasize, the ongoing effort is to rescue and preserve forgotten figures from cinema history, ensuring that their contributions are accessible to future generations (citation: curator note).