American Fiction belongs to a genre of films that I always appreciate, the portrait of the frustrated artist. This genre includes artists who work in various mediums (painters, sculpture, etc.), musicians, actors and of course writers. American Fiction is about a writer named Thelonious “Monk” Ellison (Jeffrey Wright), and the reasons why he is frustrated with his career are made evident within the opening minutes of the movie. Monk’s latest book has been rejected nine times, so he’s forced to teach to earn a living. He hates the job because he doesn’t suffer fools lightly. Monk believes he’s the smartest person in whatever room he walks into, and even though he’s usually right, nobody wants to have it rubbed in their faces. He brandishes his intelligence like a sidearm and is willing to duel with anyone who dares disagree with him about anything. When a white student says she’s offended by the n-word, he bluntly tells her that if he can get over it, so can she. When an antagonistic colleague critiques his output and lack of publishing success, Monk retorts that quality takes time and that being purchased by travelers when they buy their neck pillows and Cheese-Its is not an achievement. Monk’s insistence of his intellectual superiority over others dates back to his childhood, when his siblings gave him the nickname “Detective Dictionary”.
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