Chris Rock’s 2009 documentary, Good Hair, debuted to a flurry of reviews, landing anywhere from lukewarm to enthusiastically positive. However, a critical perspective often missed in mainstream film criticism circles is that of Black women. This analysis suggests that the generally favorable reception might stem from a lack of diverse voices, specifically Black female voices, within the film reviewing community. While Good Hair is undeniably funny and intriguing, sparking important conversations, it falls short of delivering a comprehensive and pertinent exploration into the reasons why Black women choose to relax their hair or opt for hair extensions – which was ostensibly the film’s central objective.
The genesis of Good Hair is rooted in a relatable parental moment: Rock recounts his daughter expressing distress over not having “good hair.” This sparked a journey for the comedian, leading him through New York City hair salons, an Atlanta hair show, Indian hair-shaving rituals, and even Beverly Hills salons sourcing Indian hair. Yet, throughout this exploration, a crucial element is conspicuously absent: dissenting viewpoints. The documentary largely presents a consensus, a uniformity of opinion, which is almost inevitable when the sample pool is limited. As a Black woman, viewing Good Hair evoked a recurring thought: Who are these people representing? Their perspectives frequently diverged from personal experiences and those within my community. While acknowledging the diversity of opinions within the Black community, it’s essential to address some of the key areas where Good Hair fundamentally misses the mark.
1. Debunking the Myth: Black Women Don’t Aspire to Whiteness Through Hair
It’s easy to find isolated examples of individuals grappling with self-esteem issues, perhaps amplified on platforms like Oprah. However, to generalize and assert that Black women’s hair choices are driven by a desire to be white is a gross mischaracterization. The concept of “good hair” is historically laden with racial prejudice. Historically, within the Black community, those with features closer to white European standards, often a consequence of the horrific legacy of slavery, were granted societal advantages. This preference regrettably extended to hair, where “good hair” became synonymous with straight, long, and easily manageable textures.
While the historical echoes of “good hair” persist, the term is widely recognized within the contemporary Black community as outdated, indicative of self-hate, and frankly, absurd. The notion that Black women undergoing chemical relaxers are motivated by a desire to appear white, as Good Hair implies, is simply untrue. Personal choices regarding hair are multifaceted and often pragmatic. For instance, opting for a relaxer, like choosing low-maintenance makeup routines or prioritizing comfort over high-fashion, can be driven by simple practicality. Managing naturally kinky hair on a daily basis can be time-consuming, and relaxers offer a more manageable alternative for some. This leads to the misconception surrounding salon expenses.
2. Salon Reality Check: $1000 Hair Appointments? Unrealistic for Most
Good Hair showcases actresses and singers casually mentioning extravagant hair care expenditures, which is unsurprising given their professions. However, the documentary also presents working-class women purportedly spending exorbitant amounts, around $1000, on weaves. This portrayal is highly misleading and raises questions about the film’s representational accuracy. The cost of relaxers varies significantly based on location and salon, ranging from approximately $50 to $200, and weaves can certainly escalate in price. However, the idea that working-class individuals routinely allocate rent-level sums to hair care is detached from reality. Such financial decisions would indicate deeper financial management issues beyond hair.
3. Challenging Stereotypes: Weaves and Relaxers Aren’t Universal
While personal experience is anecdotal, it’s crucial to challenge the generalizations presented in Good Hair. While the author uses relaxers, many friends and family members choose not to. The prevalence of weaves is also often overstated. Among a group of ten Black women, perhaps only two might regularly wear weaves. It’s a common styling choice, but it’s far from ubiquitous. It’s imperative to dispel assumptions and acknowledge the diverse range of hair choices within the Black community, mirroring the stylistic variety found in any population group.
4. Respecting Personal Boundaries: Hair is Not Public Domain
A critical point often overlooked is the fundamental principle of personal space and respect. Unless there’s a close, intimate relationship, inquiring about the specifics of someone’s hair – whether it’s a relaxer or a weave – is intrusive and impolite. Black women are not anthropological subjects to be dissected and analyzed. Treating hair as a topic for public curiosity is dehumanizing and unwelcome.
5. Acknowledging Parallels: White Women Engage in Hair Alteration Too
A significant portion of Good Hair, approximately 94 minutes, delves into the supposed motivations behind Black women’s hair relaxing and weaving practices, often framing them as inherently problematic or indicative of insecurity. In stark contrast, a mere minute is dedicated to acknowledging that white women also extensively alter their hair. White women frequently undergo chemical treatments to straighten or curl their hair and are known for regular, often extensive, hair dyeing, sometimes to the point of losing track of their natural hair color. These practices are rarely, if ever, framed as signs of cultural insecurity when applied to white women. Similarly, hair extensions, common among white women in Hollywood and beyond, are functionally equivalent to weaves. Whether clipped-in, glued-in, or sewn-in, hair enhancements are not exclusive to one race.
6. Universal Desires: Long, Luxurious Hair Transcends Culture
The aspiration for long, voluminous, and beautiful hair is not confined to any single culture or ethnicity. Just as some Black women may admire Beyoncé’s hair, many white women have, at some point, aspired to hair like Farrah Fawcett’s. Long, flowing hair appears to be a widely held beauty ideal across numerous cultures. It’s unfair and discriminatory to single out, criticize, or pathologize Black women for desiring similar aesthetic qualities.
7. Redefining “Good Hair”: It’s About Personal Preference
The very concept of “good hair” becomes increasingly irrelevant when considering modern hair styling possibilities. If “good hair” is defined by manageability and silkiness, then achieving that through styling techniques, whether through genetics or salon treatments, arguably leads to the same outcome. The author describes their natural hair as kinky and challenging to manage, while relaxers make it long and easily styled. Does this mean relaxed hair is “good hair”? The liberating answer is: it simply doesn’t matter.
In conclusion, Good Hair is not without merit. It initiates a crucial dialogue, one that has even touched the political sphere, as evidenced by the racist commentary surrounding Malia Obama’s hairstyles and controversial magazine covers depicting Michelle Obama. Black women’s hair is undeniably a subject interwoven with social and political complexities. However, Good Hair is marred by misinformation and unsubstantiated theories. Crucially, it fails to adequately address the deeper cultural roots of the questions raised by Rock’s daughter.
The documentary’s shortcomings may be attributed, in part, to the lack of female perspectives behind the camera. Neither the director nor the writers of Good Hair are women. It’s perhaps unsurprising that a film conceived and created by men, while well-intentioned, ultimately misses crucial nuances and fails to fully grasp the complexities of the subject matter.
(Adapted from the original article’s call to action): What are your thoughts on Good Hair? Do you have personal experiences or perspectives to share on the topics raised in the documentary and this critique?
