Logan Browning had an unenviable task in the first season of Netflixs Dear White People: taking on the lead role of politically minded, biracial college-radio host Samantha “Sam” White, a part originated by Creed and Thor: Ragnarok star Tessa Thompson, who played the role in the 2014 film on which the series is based. But Browning made her mark and then some the first time around—and in the second season, with the memory of the movie an even more distant memory and a plot with its finger on the pulse of a divided America, she explodes in a triumph of wry wit, righteous anger, and heartfelt grief.
As is the case with most projects that have something to say these days, Dear White Peoples first season on Netflix was greeted with a vocal online backlash. The show, about a wide range of black students navigating the predominantly white, fictional halls of Winchester University was deemed “anti-white” by some and inspired a #BoycottNetflix campaign on Twitter. At the center of that controversy was Sams fictional radio show, Dear White People, in which she acerbically explains to caucasian listeners what they get wrong about ongoing culture wars between black students and white.
The show premiered in 2017, after Donald Trumps inauguration, when it seemed like the entire nation was embroiled in heated online debate. Series creator Justin Simien dove right into the Twitter fray, responding directly to predominantly right-wing critics. He then channeled that experience into Season 2, which sees Sam embroiled in a Twitter war with a vicious troll going by the name “Alt-Ivy,” fielding national condemnation from a conservative pundit, and dealing with a rival show hosted by white students called “Dear Right People.”
In advance of Season 2, which premieres May 4, Browning spoke with Vanity Fair about what informed her incendiary arc—from attending the predominantly white, prestigious Vanderbilt University to grappling with her own Twitter trolls.
Vanity Fair: You have your own fairly active Twitter account, and you get political on there. Season 2 deals so much with the danger and addictive quality of getting drawn into a social-media war. Is this a trap youve ever fallen into?
Logan Browning: I didn't really engage as much, personally, in the backlash from Season 1 online. Justin and the writers got it a lot more. . . . The things that actually end up getting my time and attention are, for instance, I posted an in memoriam to Stephon Clark [a 22-year-old black man who was shot and killed by police in Sacramento, California, last month]. Some people responded with tweets that he made while he was still living, about his disdain for black women. They said a black woman like me should not use my platform to support him, because he didnt support us. Thats not really trolling, but those are the kinds of things Ill respond to. Its a healthy conversation. Like Sam in the show, when you respond to them, theyre Gremlins—they keep coming. I respond to the positive things, and thats what keeps coming my way. Im not gonna respond to people calling me a race baiter. It doesnt serve me. Also, Im not a race baiter.
It seems from the outside looking in that the run-up to Season 2 hasnt gotten the same backlash as Season 1.
Id probably get in trouble for saying this, but whatever. There was actually a mistake made, I dont know on whose part—YouTube, Netflix, whatever. Our date announcement this year was accidentally released early. Then it was taken down. They sent this e-mail out to Netflixs three million subscribers, and then took the video down. When they put it back up, there was not another follow-up e-mail. I dont know if its really reached the same people it did the last time. I want to give the alt-right credit and say they have their ways, even if one person saw it, but I think that it definitely has calmed down for us this year, just because not as many people have seen it.
I do think that last years date announcement for our show was a lot more jarring, because people saw things that they thought were antiquated, like blackface, and felt very specifically targeted as a race. They didnt understand that the show wasnt firing a missile at white people. This season, the date announcement is way more a love letter to “hey, these are things that black people go through,” not so much of “this is what white people have done to black people.” Its a little more us than them, in terms of the focus. The marketing is very different this year.
Do you think the crazy success of movies like Get Out, or Black Panther, which were marketed more directly to a black audience, allowed Netflix to feel more comfortable pitching the show that way?
I actually hadnt thought about the marketing being adjacent to the black excellence wave of media. I cant ignore that, now that you say that. I definitely can see that, being a part of this really cool rise of strong black leads. Now I want to go talk to our marketing team. . . . I think what they realized in doing that kind of a marketing is that you still gain the “other audience.” You dont lose anybody by doing that kind of marketing.
Because Sam spends so much time sucked into this online war, you have to do all these dialogue-free scenes typing into a laptop or your phone. Its almost like silent-film acting. How do you approach that, technically, to make sure its still an interesting thing to watch?
I had them blast Cardi B while I was doing it, so I felt super amped up. And I had somebody read Alt-Ivys tweets out loud. You need that “oh, its on moment.” That “oomph, Im powerful” moment.
Winchester University is the opposite of historically black colleges and universities (H.B.C.U.s)—but since your show deals so much with the experience of black students on campus, Im wondering if Beyoncés recent H.B.C.U.-themed set at Coachella made you feel like you were watching a concert version of Dear White People.
I was so into Beychella. She killed it. Some of our cast members have gone to H.B.C.U.s, and Im from Atlanta, so I feel like, by default, I experienced that kind of black excellence in college life because theres so many H.B.C.U.s in Atlanta. But I always say that I need a T-shirt that says, “Shouldve Gone to a H.B.C.U.,” because theres a whole culture you miss out on. I mean, that culture exists in a P.W.I. [predominantly white institution], but its on a much smaller scale. Its not a Beyoncé scale, you know? Its like the third stage on the third weekend. I thought it was cool that everyone who went to Coachella, or who was watching, got a taste of it. It made me wonder, do they get it? Is everyone onboard? And understands what this is? Is it still foreign? Familiar? Exciting? I was really curious what it was like for people who dont really know much about black Greek life.
Speaking of people getting it: there was this meme going around when Black Panther came out, of Bradley Whitfords villainous character from Get Out, who disingenuously says he would have voted for Obama for a third term. This new version has him saying something like “I would have seen Black Panther three times opening weekend if I could.” Season 2 of Dear White People pokes a little fun at white allies, some of whom are well-meaning, and some who really miss the mark. When a white person says Dear White People is their favorite show, does that raise any questions for you?
Yeah, I saw that meme. Look, Im all here for anybody who wants to like the show. Thats why the show is made. Though there are things that are specific to a young black collegiate experience, its not limited to that. But yeah—there are your favorite white liberal friends who are bandwagon fans, in terms of anything thats pro-black or pro-L.G.B.T.Q. Im O.K. with you riding the bandwagon. Theres room on the wagon. The wagons fun. We have snacks.
The only issue that comes up is when its like, “Are you just saying it to be cool? Or did you actually like it? Did you actually understand it?” But I think the show is more meaningful when a wider scope of people are watching it. Then the conversations arent just being had with the folks in your living room. Theyre happening with people who live a completely different life than you. Thats how we evolve: we dialogue with people we dont understand. So Im here for it.
In the show, when it comes to white allies, you have your Gabes (John Patrick Amedori), who are actually listening, and your Cliftons (Erich Lane), who just want to hear themselves talk.
If Im being completely transparent: white allies for me, Logan, can be intimidating. Sometimes they know more than me about the stuff that has to do with me. Im like, “Well shit. I dont really know how to add to this conversation. You know more than me. Like, you care so much, youve done more research, and all I have is my experience.” So, sometimes Im intimidated if Im being quite frank.
But then being an ally, sometimes people get too conformable and are so involved, and so passionate, that they can overstep a boundary. There have been times when Im having a conversation with someone who I consider an ally, and were talking about a particular topic, and were on the same page. And they may say one thing, and then I have to go, “Wait a minute. I know what you mean to say. I know what you mean to express. But what you just said, you probably shouldnt say when you leave this room. You should probably figure out another way to say that.” Which is the point of being allies.
If the white people on the show exist in this small-ish spectrum, then the black students and adults seem to run almost the entire gamut of black collegiate experience. Theres this great scene in Season 2 where an exchange-student character says that cartoonish reality-show stereotypes, represented in Season 2 by Lena Waithes rapper character P Ninny, were the only example he saw of black Americans represented in the media. What does it mean to have so many different perspectives together in one show?
I feel like its our modern-day A Different World. Its just time-capsuling another experience. The truth of the matter is, there were shows that depicted black characters that were on in the 90s, and they gave everybody a glimpse into the black experience. And then they disappeared. . . . I think that its just important that this will last forever, and I think specifically of the diversity of who we are as black people, being represented. How I was introduced to the black experience on television was through all the black family sitcoms: Moesha, Sister Sister, The Steve Harvey Show, Martin, the Wayans brothers, I mean the list goes on and on. Why did those shows disappear? But those shows didnt make a point every episode to dive into whats plaguing a particular black persons experience because of their race, or their specific existence in the world. Dear White People takes on that challenge.
Get Vanity Fairs HWD NewsletterSign up for essential industry and award news from Hollywood.Joanna RobinsonJoanna Robinson is a Hollywood writer covering TV and film for VanityFair.com.
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