Charles Burnett’s blaxploitation retort is a microscopic, politically-charged authentication of Black American life. Largely unseen, it screens belatedly in retrospect. BRANNAVAN GNANALINGAM introduces us to Killer of Sheep’s restored importance.


MADE IN 1977, Killer of Sheep has never had a distribution deal, and has never been available on video or DVD. It’s also one of the most important American films of the 1970s – The Library of Congress originally picked it as one of the 50 American films for its National Registry. Its director, Charles Burnett, made it on weekends between 1972 and 1973 for less than $20,000, and submitted it as his thesis film for UCLA. And in the process, Burnett made one of the most influential independent films in film history.

The film was a direct response to blaxploitation and the limited portrayals of blacks in Hollywood. Burnett (whose classmates also include highly influential black filmmakers Haile Gerima and Julie Dash) released his film in 1977, but its initial run, while highly important to a new generation including Spike Lee, was limited. It was a film more talked about than seen.

Thankfully the New Zealand International Film Festival has managed to get their hands on a re-released theatre print of the film. Even more, Burnett himself is coming over to New Zealand and by all accounts, the man can spin a yarn. This aside, Killer of Sheep is a valuable document itself. It tells the life of a family and assorted hanger-ons in South-Central Los Angeles. The major focus is the eponymous character (he works in a slaughterhouse) who works an honest day everyday despite life’s little crushing blows.

The film however doesn’t simply focus on the one protagonist, and in this respect, is rather subversive in its treatment of blacks. It’s not like a Hollywood film where a single character has the “burden” of representing and standing-in for all black people. It’s not a Sidney Poitier film where the character merely exists to prove to white people that black people are decent. This aims to show a multiplicity of views; a cast that shows the warts, the frustrations, the happy moments, the anger etc. of a community. In other words, these characters aren’t ciphers or representing some other ideal conception of black people – the film simply shows everyday people living an everyday life. In this respect, you could see how Burnett has been influenced by the great French director Jean Renoir – “everybody has their reasons”.

Broadly drawn but intimate in scope, Killer of Sheep is populated by miniature moments – eye movements, bursts of happiness, small crushing failures (e.g. the memorable picnic scene). It also feels authentic – documentary-like with its muted black and white imagery, yet tightly scripted and structured. Consequently, some of the non-actors’ work is a little wooden, but that also allows for a story that doesn’t exploit its characters or its setting. It’s consequently highly political in its effect and tone. But even more, it’s a rare privilege to see such a piece of filmmaking that shows real-life as bleak, funny, high-spirited, crushing, happy and angry. In essence, as life really is.