COOKING UP A HIT

By CHRISTOPHER JOHN FARLEY

When Cheryl Stallings, a 32-year-old associate producer for NBA Entertainment, went to see the movie Soul Food at the Sony Meadows 6 in Secaucus, N.J., last week, she ended up doing something she never does: she talked back to the screen. Now, creative commentary during a film is an established custom among some urban moviegoers--catch a showing of Gang Related (the late Tupac Shakur's last film) in a major city, and it's a fair bet the action will not go unremarked on--but Stallings would rather listen. However, during Soul Food, there was just something about that part where the sisters (Vanessa L. Williams, Vivica A. Fox and Nia Long) start to argue in their mother's hospital room that got to her. "It was the kind of movie everyone, especially we as black people, can relate to," says Stallings. "It had a real down-home feeling."

Soul Food is also feeling like a hit. The weekend it opened, all eyes were on DreamWorks' $70 million first feature, The Peacemaker (George Clooney! Nuclear terrorism!). But when the box-office numbers were tallied, a little-heralded African-American family drama named Soul Food (Irma P. Hall! Sweet-potato pie!) had not only grabbed the No. 3 position with $11.2 million in ticket sales but had also scored the highest per-screen average of any film in wide release: $8,363. And by last Thursday, Soul Food had taken in $3 million more, bringing its gross to more than $14 million, almost twice what it cost to make.

Soul Food's early success bodes well for other forthcoming black-themed, black-produced, modestly budgeted films, notably Eve's Bayou (produced by actor Samuel L. Jackson and due out Oct. 24). It also sets the table for two black-produced films with blockbuster potential: Amistad (produced by Debbie Allen and directed by Steven Spielberg) and Beloved (produced by Oprah Winfrey and directed by Jonathan Demme). And finally, it's a welcome little victory for cinematic wholesomeness. "Some of the black films today are not deep," says filmmaker George Tillman Jr., 28, who wrote and directed Soul Food, basing it on his own family experiences. "There are sex comedies, 'hood films. We're trying to get away from that. I wanted to do something that people could appreciate and remember about family."

The question is, Will the impact last? "Every five or seven years, Hollywood gets a wake-up call," says Reuben Cannon, a black producer and TV casting agent. "It started with She's Gotta Have It in 1986. But the studios forget that the most active filmgoing audience is African Americans. If you make films, they will come, but it's got to be a quality film."

Still, well-intentioned, well-made African-American films--like many well-intentioned, well-made white films--have often failed to become moneymakers. Spike Lee's 1996 film Get on the Bus, a fictional drama about the Million Man March, drew some favorable reviews but few theatergoers. Says a source close to Lee: "That broke Spike's heart." Even the 1996 comedy-fantasy The Preacher's Wife, starring Whitney Houston and Denzel Washington and directed by Penny Marshall, was a commercial disappointment.

As a result, black filmmakers say, Hollywood is often cool to film concepts that don't include pimps, drive-bys, sexual antics or, preferably, all three. Debbie Allen, producer of Amistad, a film about a real-life 19th century slave revolt, spent several years looking for backers before Spielberg signed on to direct it (the film will be out in December). Kasi Lemmons, writer-director of Eve's Bayou--which deals with family secrets, sisterly friendship and voodoo--had a similar experience. "We were turned down by everyone," says Lemmons. "They all said they loved the script, and then they'd say, 'Who is the audience for this film?'" Eve's Bayou finally won backing from Trimark--and a slender budget of $4 million--after Samuel L. Jackson (Pulp Fiction) agreed to star in and produce it.

Star power also helped get Soul Food into production. Kenny ("Babyface") Edmonds, one of the most powerful figures in the music industry--he has penned hits for Madonna, Toni Braxton and others--produced it with his wife Tracey. Fox 2000 head Laura Ziskin gave the project the green light just days after reading the screenplay. The film was a labor of love for Tracey Edmonds, who was pregnant throughout preproduction and gave birth to a son, Brandon, shortly before shooting began. Says she: "Kenny and I had the same vision and the same tastes. Most people expect that if you make a movie with your husband, it would ruin your marriage, but thank God we did it together because it consumed four months of our lives, and it would have been hard doing that [alone]."

That personal, emotional investment may be what audiences are responding to when they see it. Says producer Warrington Hudlin: "Look at The Preacher's Wife: two big stars, but the film did not capture the right flavor. They spent a lot of money but did not capture the nuances of the black community."

Babyface hopes black filmmakers keep branching out: "I say, 'Don't categorize us.'" But Reginald Hudlin, Warrington's brother and the director of Boomerang, says it will ultimately require black films with widespread appeal and mega-box office grosses to clear the way for a wider range of African-American moviemaking. "You really have to gross $100 million to change perceptions," says Hudlin. "Then you get into a situation where Hollywood has to leave you alone and let you do your thing." In other words, if enough moviegoers start talking back to the screen, maybe Hollywood will begin to listen.

--With reporting by Patrick E. Cole/Los Angeles and David E. Thigpen/New York

With reporting by PATRICK E. COLE/LOS ANGELES AND DAVID E. THIGPEN/NEW YORK