Dennis Haysbert is Not a Duck

You may or may not be aware of this (there are so many other news stories at the moment) but a Presidential election is currently underway in the US.

The Batley Townswomen's Guild Reenactment of the 2024 Presidential Election
(with apologies to Monty Python)

This election has been replete with moments of drama (and will doubtless continue to be) but one stand-out incident has to be the interview a couple of months ago in which one of the candidates claimed that his opponent had "only recently turned black."

"I didn't know she was black until a number of years ago when she happened to turn black and now she wants to be known as black. So I don't know - Is she Indian? Or is she black?"

I'm not going to waste anyone's time by being shocked or appalled that a self-confessed rapist could possibly say such a thing. He's a shmuck. We already knew that; it hardly qualifies as news any more.

But there is actually something interesting about this particular racist outrage: the white male candidate seems to think he will win points with his voters by suggesting that his opponent's identity is somehow... fluid. 

She's too "Indian" to be black, and too "black" to be Indian (he appears to be saying) as if that makes her defective in some way.

The problem (for him) is that racial identity in the US doesn't usually work that way.

There is an old saying: 

Every single object in the entire universe is either a duck, or not a duck.

I have no idea who originally said that (in truth it's probably a Far Side cartoon) but it's a surprisingly accurate description of race in America. In the eyes of many voters, there's white, and there's everything else. 

You're either a duck, or not a duck.

Kamala Harris is Not a Duck.

One of the many things in this universe that is not Kamala Harris.

What makes her opponent's statement interesting is his apparent obsession with the specific degree of her "not-a-duck-ness". He seems to feel that it's important for him to "label" her, and he obviously considers it a failure of character that she has not labelled herself (at least not to his satisfaction). He further seems to think that his voters will care about this as much as he does.

He's wrong, by the way. Voters of the "duck" persuasion aren't going to care about her specific flavour of "other-ness" and voters in the "not-a-duck" group will be offended by his clumsy attempt to compartmentalise her. Most of them will have been on the receiving end of that sort of thing far too often, and this will just reinforce their connection to Kamala Harris.

Someone apparently needs to take this candidate aside and explain to him how racism works. He seems to be doing it wrong.

When is a duck not a duck?

By this point, you might be wondering why I'm talking about all of this, when I should be talking about the film I plan to screen on Thursday. Trust me; I know what I'm doing.


Suture is an independently-made crime thriller from 1993 starring Dennis Haysbert. It tells the story of wealthy (but extremely unsavoury) Vincent Towers, who meets his half-brother Clay following the death of their father.


Struck by their physical resemblance, Vincent (suspected - correctly - of murdering his father) tries to fake his own death by killing his half-brother with a car bomb. Unfortunately (for Vincent) Clay survives the explosion and is rushed to a hospital, horribly injured (and suffering from amnesia) but alive. Everyone assumes that Clay is Vincent and treats him accordingly; giving him reconstructive surgery (based on Vincent's appearance), encouraging him to reconstruct Vincent's memories (which he obviously does not possess) and (of course) suspecting him of the murder that Vincent committed.


It's a brilliantly constructed, skilfully executed little thriller with gorgeous black and white cinematography and a number of knowing references to classic noir.


But I predict no one is going to be talking about any of that after we screen it on Thursday.

Because Suture has a central conceit (never explicitly discussed or even referenced within the film itself) that goes to the very heart of "identity" and the formulation of one's sense of self.

For most of the narrative, Clay is told (by everyone) that he is someone else. He believes himself to be someone else, and we, in the audience, are the only ones who are aware that he is not that someone else.

Everyone within the narrative thinks that Clay is a duck. 

The audience knows that Clay is not a duck.

Permit me to mix my duck metaphors for a moment: sometimes you can walk like a duck, and quack like a duck, and still not be a duck.


In this regard, the film's title (Suture) has a double meaning: first as a reference to the surgical procedure in which Clay's face is reconstructed (by doctors who believe he is someone else).


But "Suture" is also a concept in critical film theory that is directly relevant to the specific story being told here (more about that on Thursday).

The "duck" thing might be funny, but it also highlights an important point about semantics. Words and symbols have meaning not only because of what they signify, but also because of what they don't signify. 

In order to recognise a duck, you need to comprehend what isn't a duck.

Suture is all about what Dennis Haysbert is not. And the most notable aspect of the film is precisely what isn't there.

I promise, it will all make sense on Thursday!

We will screen Suture at 7.30pm on Thursday, the 19th of September at the Victoria Park Baptist Church.

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