One of the better things - and there aren't many - about the new big-screen version of "McHale's Navy" has to do with David Alan Grier taking over the role originated in the '60s TV series by Tim Conway.
Although Grier is the only black member of McHale's crew, there is never any mention of that fact in the film.That may seem like an odd thing to point out in this "enlightened" day and age, but let's face it - modern movies, by and large, persist in commenting on the ethnic background of characters who are cast with minority actors.
In fact, it's so common that when it doesn't happen, it's worth noting.
Similarly, Wesley Snipes in "Murder at 1600" plays that film's only prominent black character, and no one - including Snipes himself - feels the need to mention it.
Sometimes, of course, race is pertinent to the film's intent or plot - but more often it is not. Yet, for some reason, moviemakers seem to be compelled to point out an actor's ethnic background in some way. Even when it is completely unnecessary.
But there's nothing in either Grier's portrayal of Ensign Parker or in Snipes' performance as Washington, D.C., homicide detective Harlan Regis that says he is black.
In "McHale's Navy," Parker is just another sailor. (And so is Willie, played by Asian-American actor Henry Cho, whose ethnic background also goes unnoticed.)
And in "Murder at 1600," Regis is simply a top cop, treated no differently by any of the film's characters because of his color.
To be honest, I wasn't crazy about Grier's silly, prissy take on Ensign Parker, and Snipes seems to be wasting his considerable acting talent on lame action flicks. But I was nonetheless encouraged by the fact that no one involved in their respective films felt the need to fall back on an ethnic joke or slur just because those actors were cast in those roles.
On the other hand, the treatment of the Caribbean natives in "McHale's Navy" is less flattering. The film has a modern-day setting, but the natives are implied to be somewhat primitive and backward.
Similarly, Tim Curry's eye-rolling, over-the-top Soviet terrorist in "McHale's Navy" won't do anything to improve relations with Russia. Also in that film, a sequence set in Cuba portrays the Spanish-speaking people there as sinister and/or stupid.
And the North Koreans shown in "Murder at 1600" are merely bloodthirsty soldiers on televised CNN reports.
Racism, I fear, is still rampant in movies. But it's not there strictly in the form of ethnic stereotypes.
Lately I've noticed something I feel is even worse. A subtle - or not so subtle - trend toward racism in dialogue references.
In "8 Heads in a Duffel Bag," the action takes place mostly in Mexico's Baja in and around a posh vacation resort.
The Mexican characters in the film are portrayed largely as buffoons, something that can't really be taken as racist, since everyone in the film is a buffoon.
But "8 Heads" also has a great deal of talk about Mexico being a "Third-World Country" where visiting Americans might be arrested for the slightest infraction. And there is a roving gang of Mexican bandits who stop tourists on the road and steal their cars at gunpoint - played for laughs, of course.
A sequence in "Donnie Brasco" has a group of mobsters going into a Japanese restaurant for dinner. With them is Donnie (Johnny Depp), an undercover FBI agent who keeps a tape recorder in his boot to collect as evidence the conversations he has with these New York hoods.
When the restaurant's Japanese owner insists his customers remove their shoes, Donnie protests - not wanting to blow his cover. So, he makes up an elaborate story about being an orphan because his father was killed by the Japanese in World War II.
This angers the mobsters, of course, and in protest they decide to keep their shoes on. When the Japanese man becomes insistent, they beat him to a bloody pulp, screaming racist remarks all the while.
Perhaps more insidious, however, is "Keys to Tulsa," a film noir comic thriller about a movie critic (Eric Stoltz) who returns home to Tulsa, Okla., after a lengthy absence. As he becomes involved in a blackmail scheme, he gets into discussions with old friends about what's going on in town. And every so often, someone casually mentions local black residents, using the harshest racist epithet.
This is amplified by the fact that "Keys to Tulsa" has no black characters, save one - a hooker who is raped and beaten to death.
I'm sure the filmmakers would defend these examples, suggesting that I'm reading too much into their attempts to be accurate about a particular culture.
But it does trouble me. And it's certainly not the kind of thing I would want my children exposed to. And that includes my adult children, by the way.
Some of this has to be attributed to Quentin Tarantino, whose highly successful (and Oscar-winning) "Pulp Fiction" was replete with the aforementioned racist epithets - often used as a form of affection!
But in the hands of people like director Leslie Greif and screenwriter Harley Peyton, who did "Keys to Tulsa," it's merely offensive. (As if it wasn't in "Pulp Fiction"!)
Tarantino's influence can't be underestimated, of course. Look at all the charming-hit-man movies we're getting ("8 Heads in a Duffel Bag," "Grosse Pointe Blank"), as well as nasty film noir laced with comedy ("Keys to Tulsa") - with plenty more to come.
And as is always the case, filmmakers with less talent than Tarantino will continue to make inferior clones.
And subtle racism will continue in movies - whether intended or not.
- QUOTE OF THE WEEK: David Cronenberg, director of the controversial, NC-17-rated "Crash," as well as "Dead Ringers," "Videodrome," "Scanners" and "The Fly":
"I think the main function of art is to disturb and threaten people - to shock us out of our safe little cocoons."