With extreme delicacy and in-depth historical context, Watts creates a portrait of Hattie McDaniel that is the most comprehensive I’ve ever encountered. I was taken aback by the woman she was and the woman many thought her to be. Watts does a great job at explaining the racial lines that Hattie had to tip toe across in order to get work and find success as an actress. I must say, I’ve read many biographies about several different actresses, and none of them focused on the actual “work” of being an actress more than Hattie’s and that’s because Hattie didn’t have the luxury of seeing her career as anything other than a way to make ends meet by doing something she loved. Hattie took her craft seriously, but also made sure she and her family were taken care of. This drive to succeed in her career seemed to come, not from any ego, but rather a desire to survive (and maybe even thrive at the same time). There’s only one problem with her goal, which is Hollywood and America’s extremely racist ideas and stereotypes that permeated the social landscape during her entire career.
While the book did start slow and made me question where the author was going with all of the historical details, it became clear that she was setting the scene for Hattie’s life. Born from parents who experienced slavery and with a father who fought in the civil war, Hattie came from a stock that understood hard work, sacrifice, and not getting what they rightfully deserved. These details are very important as Hattie’s story unfolds. It must have been an immense weight to carry the freedom of your parents on your shoulder, as well as your entire race, which would also happen to her later in her career. Hattie would find herself playing the characters that were deemed a disgrace to the Black community and an antithesis to what her father fought for. People would be very ruthless with calling her out and during the entire book, I couldn’t help but feel empathetic toward Hattie. Juggling all of those roles could not have been easy and there were only a few select people who could understand how she felt as a Black woman in the golden age of Hollywood.
Throughout these pages, I also learned many things about Hattie I didn’t realize. I never knew she had a radio and vaudeville career before becoming an actor. I thought she started as an actress. I also didn’t know she was a blues singer with a great voice. She even shot shows for a television show that wasn’t aired, so she really had her foot in every creative performance medium possible at the time. I really respected how well rounded that made her as an actress and performer. In other aspects, this realization made me even more sad and depressed about the roles the studios gave her. She was notoriously only offered Mammy roles, which were extremely controversial as her career grew and the public began demanding more layered and complex roles for the Black actress. The studios inability to see her as more than a maid, hindered her career and stunted her growth as an artist. I can’t help but think of the amazing things she would be doing today if she were alive and able to do whatever she wanted. Now granted, this implies Hollywood is more inclusive than when Hattie was there, (and while that’s true), there’s also way more work to be done and way further to advance the visibility and accurate portrayal of Black actors.
The importance of this accuracy also comes in the form of Black actors and artists having the ability to control their own career, roles, and narrative. I loved that Hattie was able to improvise some of her scenes and lines in many of her biggest movies (such as Gone With the Wind). This ability allowed her to play with the back sassing maid that she perfected in her vaudeville shows. This gave her the unique ability to reclaim minstrelsy and turn it back on her white counterpart in a subversive way. While many say her roles perpetuated the negative stereotypes of Blacks, looking back at many of her films in the year 2025, she’s the only one relatable. She’s judging her rich white “employers” in the same way we are now, as a (somewhat) more socially aware society. And while many of her roles do lend to white subserviency, it’s clear that there is so much more to Hattie and she injects much more into her roles. She also championed the Black people around her behind the scenes. One example of this is when she insisted on getting her friend Ruby hired at CBS as the first Black woman to write for TV. That’s pretty awesome. I think people were too hard on her during the time she existed. It’s easy to see how they could be as they were literally fighting for a fair existence, but time gives 20/20 hindsight. Hattie did not hold her race back in the films, she advanced them, and all the while, she was seriously constrained by others around her who were racist or conditioned to accept a racist society. She also championed Blacks in her personal life by creating and donating to Black charities, as well as being the driving proponent to fair and equitable housing in the areas she lived (because there were always white neighbors who didn’t want her there). I think it’s remarkable she accomplished the things she did in the time period she lived in.
I won’t lie, there are times, I do believe Hattie had to prioritize her success and livelihood over her morals. There were moments of cringe throughout this book that I can’t imagine having to endure as a Black person, such as white dialect coaches teaching Black actors Ebonics and making characters appear blacker or dirtier to look darker on film. It was really appalling to hear some of things Black actors had to endure and I think about the immense humility and pride they had to have to get through such treatment. While Hattie knew she deserved to have a seat at the Gone With the Wind premier in Atlanta, just like she deserved to have the Oscar she won for her performance in the film, she humbly acted like she understood Selznick’s unwillingness to fight the racist southern theaters. It had to extremely upset her though, to not be part of something she helped create. When she received roles, she also hoped to inject as much dignity as possible into the part, but was constantly rebuffed by directors, producers, or like her scenes from In This Our Life, she was seeing her work be completely cut by racist censors in the south.
Hattie very rarely seemed to be able to catch a break, but when she did, it was like striking gold. The fact that she was nominated for and won an Oscar in 1940’s America as a Black woman, seems like a fairytale, but it wasn’t. It was real, just like the woman. Not a mammy, not a symbol, just a hell of a good actress and an accomplished Black woman. Her story is one of resilience and tenacity. I was inspired by every page and our society needs to push more stories like Hattie’s to the forefront. Only then can we truly champion and appreciate the Black experience in America.