Being Seen in Every Scene: A Critical Analysis of The Harder They Fall
Kayla M Bryant
One of the most captivating moments of this past fall season was awaiting the release of Netflix's original film The Harder They Fall. The trailers and promotional media gave consumers what felt like an unveiling of previously-erased history. It was a film that promised to center the lives of Black people in a realm that is usually associated with whiteness. The history of cowboys is often seen through the lens of old-western-style films that center white characters. This white glaze covers the presence of Black folk in that history. With the release of movies like this one in October and Concrete Cowboy in April, Netflix has started to expose us to an era of Black representation in a traditionally white arena. The anticipation of this film was driven by the desire to continue watching tremendous Black representation unfold through production and on-screen.
The Harder They Fall is a film that follows character adaptations of real Black and Indigenous cowboys. It includes Rufus Buck (after the Rufus Buck Gang), Nat Love, "Stagecoach" Mary Fields, Cathay "Cuffee" Williams, Gertrude "Trudy" Smith, and Crawford Goldsby (AKA Cherokee Bill). The beautifully-composed music guides each character through their endeavors, and each scene is carefully crafted with outstanding visuals. What I found most intriguing, though, is the portrayal of Cuffee as a character. I think this choice points specifically to a discourse on identity and intersectionality. For a film dedicated to Black representation, it is essential to view the characters through an intersectional lens critically.
The film would have reached its fullest potential with its depictions of Blackness by maintaining respect for Cuffee's assumed queer identity. Instead, the one scene that touches on Cuffee's gender identity is filled with mockery and commentary surrounding what is in her pants. The scene shows Nat, Bill Pickett, Cuffee, Jim Beckwourth, and Bass Reeves gathered around in preparation for a heist. To accompany him, Nat gives Cuffee a dress to wear, which is an embarrassing moment, given that Cuffee presents in a masculine fashion. While Nat turns to let Cuffee change, Jim watches as Cuffee gets undressed, and her discomfort is nearly tangible. He still yells, "Whoo! Hoo! Close shave––I thought I was falling for a fella for a little bit" once she finally pulls down her pants. Overall, Cuffee is a highly valued, loved, and respected character, but a clear choice was made in that scene. Although it was meant to be lighthearted and comical, the moment points to a familiar discourse that trivializes the topic's significance. There is often a comfort that cishet people feel when othering the bodies and identities of queer people. Since the people who make these comments do so from a place of privilege, the remarks can strip away a queer person's agency. It would have been nice for Cuffee to exist freely without that moment of disdain.
While it is easy to get caught up in the excitement of new releases as entertainment, we should always be willing to give critique. How we show up on-screen is vital because it should represent how we show up regularly, and it has the power to inform our present. The Harder They Fall is a film that was beautifully done in many ways, and I look forward to watching the evolution of this genre.