An Aspiring Author’s Thoughts on Reel: A Forbidden Hollywood Romance by Kennedy Ryan
Admittedly, I assumed I’d be reading a cheesy romance novel, when I added this book to my kindle library. Some sayings are sayings for a reason – we should never judge a book by its cover, or its title. Reel: A Forbidden Hollywood Romance exceeded my expectations in every way! Drawn to the cute Black couple on the cover, I decided to read Ryan’s book, expecting a sweet, fluffy piece of fiction about a director and an actor who fall in love. Presumptuously, I did not expect to read a “love letter to the scores of Black creatives whose work and accomplishments have gone largely unacknowledged and unsung” (pg. 417). Nor did I expect to read about characters with an inspiring passion for their art.
“ ‘I feel robbed sometimes’ . . . ’All the things we don’t know, are never taught. Have to dig around to find out’ . . . ‘History is so picked over, by the time you get to the tree, there’s barely any fruit left.’ “ (pg. 144). When on set of the biographical film in production throughout Ryan’s book, the film’s choreographer recounts the origin of famous 1920s-40s, American dance, the lindy hop. The lindy hop was a dance move created by African American artist, Frankie Manning. Once popularized in white media, the lindy hop was renamed the jitterbug. White artists, like Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly, went on to decades of Hollywood success, thanks to Manning’s choreography. Like many Black pioneers of American popular culture, Manning was “revived” by white producers at the age of 70, after a life of working for the post office, and given a Tony award for his contributions to entertainment.
Mirrored in the biographical film production of fictional Harlem Renaissance artist, Dessi Blue, Ryan’s book contains many recounts of African American artists who were excluded from white art history. She states that “Black creatives . . . they were not only the stars. They were the night—the dark sky without which no star can shine. How brightly they shone, leaving us a legacy lit by grit and enduring grace” (pg. 417). Ryan expresses her thanks to these creatives through the characterization of her protagonists, Cannon and Neevah.
Cannon, a prestigious director, and Neevah, a rising Broadway star, share an obsessive dedication to their art. Both characters accept any hardship they may face in pursuit of their art as “the moments a lifetime in the making.” As a corporate consultant by day and creative writer in my free time, I can’t say that I subscribe to the starving / tortured artist trope. However, I do feel validation in reading about the long-term, creative process in which creatives “toil in the shadows of our dreams. In the alleys of preparation and hard work where it’s dark and nothing’s promised. For years, we cling by a thread of hope and imagination, dedicating our lives to a pursuit with no guarantees” (pg. 26). It sounds dramatic – and it is, It’s romance! – but as someone who is very much in the “alleys of preparation and [sustainable amounts of] work where it’s dark and nothing’s promised,” it’s validating to read about artists who value each stage of the creative process as much as they do the rewards.
I enjoyed the romanticization of Black creatives and dedication to art, just as much as I enjoyed the love story, in Ryan’s romance. At first glance, Reel: A Forbidden Hollywood Romance appears to be a predictable romance novel. Once read, I’m sure readers will find themselves swooning at the love of art and artists and love, and shaking their fists at the erasure of Black artists from history.
