Dreaming Whilst Black: Review
Hilarious workplace observations and unabashed Blackness take centre stage in the BBC 3’s brand new, aptly-titled comedy.
In the pilot episode of Dreaming Whilst Black by British-Jamaican filmmaker Adjani Salmon, we follow protagonist Kwabena, an aspiring filmmaker, who, having graduated from film school, is now trapped in a soulless recruitment job he hates. Kwabena has potential but he lacks follow-through and commitment to his craft as he tries to balance making a living with pursuing his dream.
The episode opens with Kwabena confidently commanding a film set against the dulcet tones of Fela Kuti’s Black Man Cry. The use of such a prolific African musician instantly foregrounds the unapologetic Blackness that remains a permanent fixture within this show, particularly Blackness in Britain that is often so connected to its African or Caribbean roots. It is soon revealed to the viewer, however, that the scene is nothing more than a wishful daydream and that Kwabena is actually sitting at his desk doing his tedious office job.
Salmon’s work follows in the footsteps of writers like Michaela Coel and Issa Rae, whose unfulfilled protagonists navigate their way through life, wanting to have it all but making minimum strides to actually attain it. Dreaming is a recurring theme in the episode; it paints the portrait of a protagonist who does not take action and instead only dreams. Salmon utilises dream sequences to represent Kwabena’s fantasies in which he can act in a way that he never would in real life. In these fantasies he is able to chat up a pretty girl on the bus with a charmingly smooth line like “Boots has a special on all Shea Moisture products this week,” and even dramatically exit an important meeting in order to fully realise his filmmaking dream. In reality, he watches the girl get off the bus without saying a word and he remains at the meeting, defeated, whilst Cleo Sol plays mournfully in the background.
But what really shines through in this pilot is Adjani Salmon’s deftly written observational comedy which consistently hits the mark. We watch Kwabena comically attempt to navigate his way through office culture, be it shortening his name from Kwabena to ‘Kwabz’, or keeping his cool when his colleagues ask what it is exactly he’s brought for lunch as he microwaves a container full of stewed peas. Salmon perfectly encapsulates the awkwardness of being the only Black face navigating a white space. Workplace humour is hardly new, neither is the ‘only Black guy in the office’ trope, however, Salmon still manages to bring a breath of fresh air to the typical cringe comedy. He provides a specifically Black British perspective and sense of humour, tapping into the coded language that non-Black British people use around Black people. A particularly chuckle-worthy moment was when his white colleague attempts to describe the Black woman he’s dating without ever actually using the word ‘Black’, opting instead for euphemisms like “vibrant” and “she changes her hairstyle a lot”. The microaggressions are not only limited to the workplace though. Another scene shows Kwabena going for drinks with a friend and as he goes to order another round the bartender assumes him and another random Black man at the bar are paying together.
The industry that Kwabena aspires to work in is also not exempt from these problematic moments; as one white filmaker is seen pitching a film about a working class/queer/non-binary/Asian/disabled person that he describes as ‘very personal’ to him. Dreaming Whilst Black, thus showcases that for the media industry, representation is often nothing more than a box-ticking exercise. It is a lot more palatable to the gatekeepers of the industry coming from a white person rather than people from the communities being represented themselves.
Salmon perfectly encapsulates the awkwardness of being the only Black face navigating a white space.
However, Salmon is great at finding the levity in these more serious moments; through the casual racism and tone-deaf comments are expressions of Black joy demonstrated in Kwabena’s interactions with other Black characters where they can be authentically themselves. He and his friend joke around in the shared language that all Black people can understand as she tells him to meet her at 4.30 but follows up her ‘don’t be late’ with ‘I mean a white people’s 4:30!’.
The climax of the episode where the last straw ultimately leads Kwabena to quit his dead-end job to pursue his passion is a cringe-worthy karaoke scene that can only be watched through hand-covered eyes. We watch as Kwabz’s white colleague plays Coolio’s Gangsta’s Paradise, passing the microphone to Kwabena for him to say the N-word. Up until this point, Salmon has played it so that although Kwabena wearily bears the brunt of his co-workers’ microaggressions, he has never been the butt of the joke; the joke has always been on his clueless colleagues and not him. Salmon is able to deliver this emotional gut-punch in the final scene as up until now Kwabena has been the easygoing “cool” Black guy in the office who takes it all in his stride. It really hits home for him and for us, the audience, that these people really don’t care about him or any harm they might (even unwittingly) inflict.
It’s a shame that things had to be taken this far for Kwabena to act but it is at this point that we can see that enough is finally enough for him. It is only once he becomes an active participant in his own life that things begin to fall in place for Kwabz. He actively chooses to pursue his passion and begins to make sacrifices for it and why by chance he bumps into the pretty girl from the bus and she asks him what he does, he can confidently reply, ‘I’m a filmmaker.’ Whether Kwabena will get the girl and successfully break into the world of filmmaking is left to be seen, if the BBC picks up the series, but I am certainly crossing my fingers.