Say there was a person at your job or in your family or wherever that just loved fried catfish. Whenever you went to a restaurant that’s what they ordered, whenever they came over to your house, that’s what they wanted to eat; fried catfish and a side of French fries. For them, it’s the perfect comfort food, something that’s easy to make, cheap, and pretty unadventurous. You love this person, you know they’ve been through a lot, and in a lot of ways they’re still having some problems. The problems that they have are much bigger then what they like to eat; they have social issues, money problems, and find themselves in violent situations far too often. So when you take them out, and they always want the same thing, you don’t care, and at first you don’t think it means anything, you get it.

That doesn’t mean that deep in your heart it doesn’t bother you. It bothers you that your friend won’t try some more complex flavors. It bothers you that they sometimes miss out on dishes that could offer them some much needed nutrition or a new opinion of what’s delectable. I mean, even if they tried something different and didn’t like it, isn’t it worth it just to take a chance? Doesn’t that help you understand what great cuisine is?

Now that I have you all equal parts hungry and confused, let me tell you in plain English what I’m getting at. In the restaurant of film, Tyler Perry’s movies are fried catfish and French fries. Before I go on this tangent, let me just say something. As a Black man, it’s refreshing to see another black dude so successful at what he’s doing. This sentiment is pretty universal for Black people actually. If you look at our Hip Hop influenced culture from the outside looking in, it seems like we sometimes glorify and revere some pretty vile and unsavory figures.  Our admiration for those people doesn’t have so much to do with what they did, and more with what they made, which was a profit. We’re a success starved group, so even hinting at criticism of someone who’s been so prosperous is normally difficult for us.

So why would I, an aspiring young filmmaker who shares the same home state as Tyler Perry have anything halfway negative to say about his films, business model, or overall impact on Black America? It actually has very little to do with the films themselves. The movies for the most part, don’t even matter. Even if you enjoy them, they’re completely forgettable and almost disposable in a way. There are no lessons learned from a Tyler Perry film that you can’t garner from an after school special or a rerun of “Good Times.” The basic things that you get from Perry’s Fried Catfish cinema are as follows: drugs are bad, black women are unappreciated, family should always be first and God will fix everything. Most would argue that those are all lessons that Black America needs to learn, and I certainly agree with that. What I don’t agree with though, is that we need to be spoon fed those themes. I don’t think that we need any art that seemingly assumes we aren’t sophisticated enough to discern those messages from more complex material. Very simply, we don’t need any art that doesn’t challenge us to some degree, especially if it is intended to inspire.

While all of this seems like an indictment of Perry and his take on Black American film, there is a scarier much more unsettling reality lurking beneath the surface of the discussion. See, while watching a Perry film everything is given to you. Cue laughter when the guy in drag shows up as the old woman. Cue boos and hisses when the mother who cares more about her drug dealer boyfriend then her own kids spouts off silly one liners. Cue tears when the wife who married the successful yet abusive man realizes that there is a male model looking janitor or mechanic or sheriff waiting to sweep her off feet. Perry gives you a roadmap to the ending that you can see in the first scene. That scary notion I was talking about earlier is that that might be exactly how black audiences want it. That was the purpose of the overwritten Catfish analogy from earlier. Tyler Perry is just making the art that he’s always made since rising from being almost homeless to the top of his field. It’s not his fault we like him as much as we do.

After all, it’s not as if we don’t have brilliant filmmakers who have tried to give us more. Spike Lee gave us all the themes of Perry (minus the overtly religious ones), but he also gave us pace, beautiful cinematography, and story concepts that actually made us look inward and ask if we were not part of the problem. John Singleton and a host of other filmmakers tried as well, but what they mostly got were disappointment. This disappointment came in the form of bad box office due to flimsy support from its target demographic. So then it’s us right? It’s black people. We like fried Catfish. As a matter fact we like any food that tastes good and is easy. Anything that doesn’t go down easy, anything that takes a while to digest, that you have to work for, we don’t want it. Is that it? To me, that’s terrifying. What does that say about us? I don’t know If I even begin to believe that.

As for Perry, the reality is that he’s talented and  has the ears and eyes of Black America. He hangs out with Oprah; he pals around with Obama from time to time. I wonder sometimes if he realizes where we are as a people. We’re in a time to where speeches and pats on the back aren’t good enough. We have to now show that we’ve made enough progress to be taken seriously. Therefore anyone who carries the flag for Black film has a responsibility to push it forward and not roll it backwards.  I’m not talking about Precious type melodrama either. I’m talking about real stories about real people. I’m talking about actual art that can be appreciated for years to come. Enduring art that’s sometimes hard to eat and harder to swallow. At this point, Tyler Perry is our most popular chef with the keys to our most popular restaurant. Please Mr. Perry, no more fried Catfish.

Directing movies isn’t easy. After a couple shorts and a feeble attempt at a feature, I proved to be a miserable failure. No amount of schooling or research can prepare you for the daunting task you will face once you set foot on a set or sound stage. It’s doubly tough to make a great film, one that resonates not just with critics, but the public alike.

The legends make it seem so simple. Scorsese, Spielberg, Kubrick, Coppola, Allen and many others in their elite fraternity are responsible for dozens of the most lauded films ever produced. Then there are the one-and-doners; those who for whatever reason came into the game like a lion, only to exit like a lamb. The world of music has hundreds of one-hit wonders, but filmmaking has its fair share as well. Here are seven (actually eight) gents whose first foray was their best and only legit hit.

Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez – The Blair Witch Project

The premise for Blair Witch was sound. The execution not so much. How much directing did this not-so dynamic duo really do? The cast shot the entire film with hand-held cameras and appeared to improv the majority of dialogue, which was composed mostly of cursing and screaming. Could be why all Myrick and Sanchez have done since is straight to DVD dreck. They are just two of many Sundance Festival darlings who have moved on to browner pastures.

Charles Laughton – The Night of the Hunter

Best known for playing Captain Bligh, Henry VIII and Quasimodo, the Academy Award-winning Laughton was given only one chance behind the lens and the results were stunning. One of the best films of the 1950s, if not ever, The Night of the Hunter showcased Laughton’s keen eye for thematic lighting and clever camera placement. Its black and white cinematography is a marvel to behold. The film is listed as an influence to several contemporary directors,  including David Lynch and Spike Lee. Sadly, the film wasn’t immediately recognized for its merits and Laughton never helmed another movie.

Paul Brickman – Risky Business

Brickman served as both writer and director for the film that catapulted Tom Cruise into the spotlight. It’s widely considered one of the best teen films of the ’80s and its signature scene, which involved a tighty whitey clad Cruise dancing to the sounds of Bob Seger, has been parodied ad nauseam. Brickman’s satirical screenplay leaned toward a very adult brand of humor, but also exposed the “greed is good” mentality of the era. His direction was both stylish and reserved. Brickman has only directed one other film, the little seen Men Don’t Leave in1990.

Steve Kloves – The Fabulous Baker Boys

As a writer, Kloves has five Harry Potter flicks and the Oscar-nominated Wonder Boys to his credit. As a director, he’s had lesser acclaim. His debut film, The Fabulous Baker Boys, received four Oscar noms and should have netted Michelle Pfeiffer and Jeff Bridges little gold statues. Multi-layered characters and a killer soundtrack highlight this underrated story about broken souls searching for salvation. Kloves also wrote and directed 1993′s Flesh and Bone. It’s a decent film, but not in the same class as Baker Boys.

John Singleton – Boyz n the Hood

I’m not suggesting Singleton didn’t put his heart into the films he did after Boyz n the Hood, but you could definitely tell it was a much more personal pursuit. To be honest, I don’t care if he ever makes another great movie because his first is so damn powerful it’s enough to define a career. It may be fiction, but for someone like me who didn’t know shit about South Central Los Angeles before seeing Boyz, it was an eye-opening and educational experience. Singleton’s subsequent films have run the gamut from bad (Baby Boy) to average (Higher Learning) to good (Rosewood). However, Boyz n the Hood remains his only masterpiece.

Andrew Niccol – Gattaca

Gattaca is and always will be one of my favorite movies. I went in blind when I saw it and exited the darkened theater amazed. It’s a compelling tale both tragic and inspiring. It could be Jude Law’s and Ethan Hawke’s finest work to date, and Niccol came away smelling like roses with a bright future on the horizon. After writing The Truman Show, he went on to direct the disastrous S1m0ne and the underwhelming Lord of War. He seems to be another who has fallen victim to post-debut blues.

Marlon Brando – One-Eyed Jacks

Did you know the greatest actor to grace stage and screen directed a western? Well he did, and it’s pretty outstanding. A revisionist story set in picturesque Monterey, California, Jacks stars Brando as a brooding outlaw seeking vengeance on his former partner played by Karl Malden. Brando ratcheted up the violence and coaxed excellent performances from all involved. Although not credited, it has long been rumored that he penned the script himself. Brando never directed again and spoke sparingly about his experiences on set, but words were not needed. The film’s greatness speaks for itself.