Malorie Blackman’s dystopian world vividly comes to life
this year on our screens through the BBC drama adaptation Noughts + Crosses.
The TV show takes its name from the first novel in Blackman’s
critically-acclaimed series, which debuted in 2001 and has a new book yet to
enter into its fold. Blackman’s creation was innovative in 2001 and even in
2020, it is mind-blowing.
Noughts + Crosses is set in Aprica, a fictional creation
of Blackman’s, inspired by the real Africa. Aprica is like an African
transposition of the United Kingdom, where the sounds and sights of
heterogeneous African culture intermingle with the familiarity of London
accents. What is impressive about both Blackman’s creation and the BBC show’s
adaptation of it, is how our current reality is flipped on its head. Where in
reality Africa was the colonised continent, Aprica is the coloniser. Where
Europeans have in actual history been the invaders, in Noughts + Crosses,
they are the invaded.
The first episode of Noughts + Crosses informs us
that Apricans invaded Europe over 700 years before we begin the story. In this
dystopian world, the Crosses are the black people and wield the power to
oppress the colonised white people, known as Noughts.
The protagonists of this tale are Callum (played by Jack
Rowan) and Sephy (Masali Baduza). Callum is a Nought who lives in a rundown
area of London, whereas Sephy is the privileged Cross daughter of the Home
Secretary and lives in a mansion where Nought servants pick her clothes up off
the floor.
The parallels between today’s reality and this fictional
universe are striking. Language is important, as we all know, in establishing
notions of superiority and inferiority. Thus, the oppressed race being called
“Noughts” is not an oversight. They are treated as nothing.
Meanwhile, the term for the opposite race, “Crosses”, may
even call to mind the image of the crucifix. They are deemed superior,
cleaner and more worthy than the “Noughts”. Similarly, “black” and “white” as
racial terms have long been used to justify deeming black people “dirty”,
“godless” and “impure”, whilst white is seen as “pure”, “holy” and “superior”.
The BBC show further reiterates the mastermind vocabulary of Blackman by
featuring the words “blanker” and “dagger” repeatedly. “Blanker” is the Noughts
+ Crosses equivalent of the racial slur “nigger”, whilst “dagger” is
comparative to “white trash”. But remember: the colours are swapped around in
this world!
It is interesting to note that the McGregor family (Callum’s household) also wear traditional African clothing. Callum's mother Meggie (played by Helen Baxendale, who you might recognise as Emily from Friends), wears an African-inspired dress and Callum, a patterned shirt in the below still. Jude and Callum’s father’s rejection of this clothing mirrors their outlook of being more subversive and unwilling to assimilate into the culture of their oppressors.
Malorie Blackman’s magicking up of Callum and Sephy was a
reaction to racism of the 1990s. The Stephen Lawrence case (where a 19-year old
black male was the victim of a racist murder) was still fresh. In 2020, although
things have changed, much is still the same. Perhaps even worse, in some ways.
I write this hours after learning of the modern-day lynching of black American
George Floyd in the street, a white police officer crushing Floyd’s neck with
his knee.
Noughts + Crosses is not shy. It is bold, fierce and
daring. And I find it to be a brilliant, enlightening and effective portrayal
of the evil of racism.
We have barely broken one minute when we see police
brutality take centre stage. Callum and his brother Jude are at a party with
his friends, when they hear the ominous sirens of the police. The crowd
immediately scatters, fear in the eyes of each of the Noughts present.
Unfortunately for Callum, Jude (Josh Dylan) and their friend Danny (Charles
Jones), the police catch sight of them in an alleyway.
Their bodies immediately slump into subservience. They know
that meetings with the police do not typically end well for those with their
complexion.
Before they know it, the police are pushing them against a van – all except Jude, who tries to be the smart one and contest his rights. That approach doesn’t work; instead it riles up the officers all the more – and Danny is violently knocked to the ground, blood streaming from his head.
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Danny with his hands
on the police van, moments before he is struck in the head
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This may be fiction but it mirrors the reality of the
present day. Black people know not to try and argue with the police, because it
could end very badly for them. Think of Sandra Bland. This reality is not
limited to America. Black people are disproportionately stopped and searched by
officers in the UK, and are sometimes the subject of police brutality. Although
I am grateful for the police, I still feel a tightening in my chest every time
I am driving and a police car nears. I remember being in the car once and my
mum being forced to stop by a white police officer, who made preposterous
claims about the way she was driving. We both knew that the only reason she was
stopped is because she is black.
This intense scene in the first episode of N+C
mirrors today’s news in many ways. The unprovoked attack on Danny is caught on
video by surrounding Noughts, who have returned and begin to shout at the
police officers. Danny is rushed to the hospital, where he fights for his life.
Let’s be honest: in today’s society, when black people are
violently attacked by white police officers, they rarely survive long enough to
get to hospital.
The paradox in the lives of Noughts and Crosses quickly
becomes apparent. While Callum sadly awaits news of his friend Danny, Sephy
excitedly prepares for her mother Jasmine’s birthday party, completely
oblivious to the news on the T.V. directly before her, retelling the attack.
Her ability to zone this out struck me. She has the privilege of existing in a
world where racism will never directly affect her; therefore she can develop
the ability to zone it out. What a privilege.
The BBC series does a fantastic job of representing the rich
and diverse cultures of Africa. Yet one of my few criticisms of the show is
that it zooms in too much on the national culture of one actual nation in
particular. The culture of Nigeria is overrepresented, to the detriment of many
other notable African cultures. And I say this as someone of Nigerian heritage.
This said, it is something quite spectacular to see the beauty of Nigerian culture
celebrated on my TV screen: something I have never seen on British television.
Sephy and her sister Minerva sing birthday celebrations to
their mother in Yoruba (incidentally, this is the tribe my family draws its
roots from), a Nigerian tribal language. Notice the traditional African print
on their clothing.
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Today, let us dance
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It is interesting to note that the McGregor family (Callum’s household) also wear traditional African clothing. Callum's mother Meggie (played by Helen Baxendale, who you might recognise as Emily from Friends), wears an African-inspired dress and Callum, a patterned shirt in the below still. Jude and Callum’s father’s rejection of this clothing mirrors their outlook of being more subversive and unwilling to assimilate into the culture of their oppressors.
Jude’s response to the attack on his friend Danny is to
become angry. He decides to meet with an anti-racist force known as the
Liberation Militia. Though Callum, too, is hurt, his hope of change is to qualify
for a place at military academy Mercy Point, where he will be able to prove the
Crosses and their stereotypes wrong.
As Callum walks to the home of Home Secretary Kamal Hadley, where
his mother has convinced him to serve as a waiter at Jasmine’s party, it
becomes apparent how quickly the Cross media have twisted the facts of the attack
to suit their own agenda. Callum walks past a billboard bearing the headline “POLICE
ATTACKED IN CONTINUED NOUGHT VIOLENCE”, and moments later he sees a nought
being cruelly bundled into the back of a police van. The parallels between this
and our current-day reality are explicit. Every time another unarmed black
person is senselessly killed, the narrative very quickly becomes “He [the
victim] was dangerous. They [the attackers] were only protecting themselves.”
Kamal Hadley, Sephy’s father, is one of those who pushes this
propaganda. In an encouraging display of what can happen when the privileged care
for the downtrodden, the female Prime Minister of Albion does not back him.
Take a moment to admire the Kente cloth outfit worn by the
Prime Minister in this shot. Kente cloth is a fabric native to Ghana. The
headdress the Prime Minister is wearing is known as a gele, a Nigerian
head-tie worn by women at special occasions. Even her necklace is traditionally
African. Doesn’t she look amazing?!
Noughts + Crosses outdoes itself in both the great and
small details. The disproportionate unemployment faced by Noughts is brought to
our attention; a bunch of them coming to the docks every day hoping for a job. The
blown-up face of a Cross woman with beaded hair on a gigantic billboard reminds
us that in this world, black (Cross) is the beauty standard. As Callum’s mother
Meggie travels on the bus, the camera cuts to a sign forbidding romantic relationships
between Noughts and Crosses.
Think of slavery, colonisation, apartheid and the Jim Crow laws.
Then imagine a society in which all of them have existed. That is Albion. Here,
the Crosses reign.
It is so atypical to see blackness celebrated on screen that it is something strangely wonderful to hear traditional African music as the soundtrack of this show. At Sephy’s mother’s party, the band breaks out into a groovy tune in one of the Songhoi dialects of Mali.
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Jasmine’s party is a cocktail of rich sights and sounds. As
well as the traditional prints and clothing pieces, the women proudly wear
their hair in its natural texture. The Aprican culture is celebrated.
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Callum immediately notices when Sephy enters the party.
(Still above.) He is blown away by her beauty, yet they are from opposite
worlds, and her world does not make room for people like him. We see Callum
watch the Hadleys and their Cross guests revelling; he and other Noughts present
but not invited to the party. Angered by Kamal Hadley’s apathy to the plight of
the Noughts, Callum breaks a glass and cuts his finger.
This is where Callum and Sephy finally meet. Sephy goes
looking for Callum, and we discover that these two actually grew up together as
children. Much has since changed. Sephy helps Callum bandage his finger, only to awkwardly pause
as they both realise that the plaster is designed for brown skin, not skin like
Callum’s. (That is so clever!)
This episode exposes us to Sephy’s ignorance. She is so naïve!
A key example is the scene below. Callum doesn’t feel the need to spell out the
link between his friend being in hospital and the police, as Noughts are so often
attacked by the police. Sephy hasn’t got a clue.
Later in the episode, Callum attends the vigil where people
gather to mourn and pray for his friend Danny outside the hospital. Sephy
arrives and is met with a combination of warmth and hostility by the Noughts. Callum
can’t believe she has come. Before they know it, their peaceful gathering is scattered
by the onslaught of police, who shout that this is an “illegal protest”.
Callum and Sephy escape to the hospital, where Sephy is able
to use her Cross privilege to get the parents into Danny’s hospital room, which
they were previously barred from entering. As they walk home, Callum and Sephy
are attacked by a group of Noughts, who are angry with Callum for associating
with a Cross. Callum is viciously beaten, and Sephy roughly held back, until
she screams at one of the guys, “Get off me, you Blanker!”
In that moment, the infighting between the Noughts comes to
an abrupt end. In that moment, they all are one. They are all the same to Sephy:
as Noughts, the word “Blanker” is a derogatory slur used against all of them.
A deafening silence ensues, broken only by the pathetic apologies
of Sephy. A police officer arrives, and because of Sephy and only because of
her, all the Noughts are left to walk free. The betrayal is painfully etched across
Callum’s face as he walks away.
The episode most certainly does not end there. There is much more to this episode than the little I have fleshed out here. I’ll leave you with this quote
from Sephy:
“I’d love to pretend that I’m not like the other Crosses; that I’m better than that – but I’m not! I just didn’t want to realise it.”
