When we gain visibility, it is often because we are of some temporary use to men. The right wing conjures us up to illustrate the need for dismantling social programs, black men summon us as silent supports, white women call upon us at the last minute when they need a brown face on the dais. For black actresses, who make their living pretending to be someone other than who they are, this struggle for identity is unique. Too often, they are visible only in character. That her character Carla spent her first four months passing for white is just another bizarre twist in Holly's lifelong struggle for visibility, identity and voice.
Some people act because they're extroverts who get an electric charge out of showing off.
Others act because they're painfully shy, a role gives them a mask to hide behind. I was nearly immobilized. And then I discovered the world of acting where nothing had a penalty because it was all make-believe. The tie that binds all these disparate elements together is Holly's honesty. A bright, complex woman who one moment comes off as a slave for love and the next emerges as a model of independence, a woman with a heart as soft as butter left out overnight but with a sense of humor that can be cutting, wickedly funny and always on the mark.