Hollywood's love affair with buddy comedies has been a blockbuster romance for decades, but let's face it—there's a glaring omission that hits close to home for many of us. Black women are sorely underrepresented in this hilarious subgenre, leaving a void that's not just noticeable, it's downright frustrating. Why has this been the case, and what can we do to change it? Stick around, because we're about to dive deep into this overlooked corner of cinema, and trust me, the revelations might just surprise you.
Imagine firing up a quick search on Google for 'Black women buddy comedies.' The results? A scant few, peppered with classics that stand out like rare gems. You've got 1997's 'B.A.P.S.'—a quirky tale of two Southern gals chasing dreams in L.A.—then there's 2017's 'Girls Trip,' which boasts a dynamic ensemble of four friends rediscovering their bond at Essence Fest. Oh, and let's not forget 1995's 'Waiting to Exhale,' often classified as a romantic drama but boasting a quartet of Black women's stories that could easily fit the buddy mold. Beyond these, the list dwindles to almost nothing, especially when stacked against the avalanche of male-led buddy flicks or even the lighter roster of comedies featuring white women duos from the 21st century.
Think about it: From the uproarious 'Baby Mama' and 'Bridesmaids' to the sizzling chemistry in 'The Heat' and the sharp wit of 'Booksmart,' white women have a treasure trove of funny pairings and group dynamics on screen. It's a genre that's rich with laughter, mishaps, and heartfelt moments, yet Black women have been on the sidelines far too often. And this is the part most people miss—why does representation in comedy matter so much? Well, for beginners wondering, buddy comedies are those feel-good films where unlikely pairs (or groups) embark on wild adventures, trading quips and chaos along the way. They reflect real-life friendships and struggles, making them relatable and empowering. Without diverse stories, we're missing out on the full spectrum of humor and resilience that Black women bring to the table.
Enter 'One Of Them Days,' a fresh take on the genre that's poised to shake things up. This new buddy comedy, headlined by the talented Keke Palmer and R&B sensation SZA, is stepping into the spotlight to fill that conspicuous gap. Written by Syreeta Singleton, the creative force behind the hit show 'Rap Sh!t,' and directed by Lawrence Lamont, the film marks the first Black women-led buddy comedy in nearly eight years—and the first duo-driven one in almost 30! It reunites Palmer and SZA after their unforgettable 2022 'Saturday Night Live' skit, rounding out the cast with comedic heavyweights like Katt Williams, Lil Rel Howery, Maude Apatow, Janelle James, Vanessa Bell Calloway, and Keyla Monterroso Mejia. Produced in part by Issa Rae, this South Los Angeles-set gem promises to be a game-changer.
The plot? Picture this: Palmer plays Dreux, a no-nonsense dreamer eyeing a big corporate job to escape her waitressing gig, while SZA makes her acting debut as Alyssa, a free-spirited artist stuck in a 'manifestation bubble' with lofty painter ambitions. These two broke besties and roommates are scrambling to scrape together $1,500 for rent after Alyssa's freeloading boyfriend (played by Joshua Neal) squanders their savings. With eviction looming and Dreux's life-altering interview on the line, their desperate quest spirals into a series of outrageous, laugh-out-loud escapades. Think bungled blood bank visits, shady sneaker sales involving power lines, and a frantic dash to a payday loan joint—classic buddy comedy chaos that keeps you giggling from start to finish.
But here's where it gets controversial: Does this film truly capture the essence of Black women's experiences, or is it just another Hollywood attempt to cash in on a trending niche? Critics and fans alike are buzzing, with some praising its authenticity while others wonder if it's leaning too hard into stereotypes for the sake of laughs. 'One Of Them Days' doesn't shy away from the duo's ride-or-die friendship, weaving in semi-heartening arcs about overcoming personal hurdles. Dreux's drive for stability clashes with Alyssa's dreamy idealism, highlighting the push-pull of ambition and aspiration. It's a reminder that beneath the hijinks, there's real depth—much like how humor often serves as a lifeline for Black women navigating life's tougher spots.
Director Lamont has shared that he drew inspiration from 'B.A.P.S.,' calling it the closest reference point despite nods to 'Friday' and other '90s Black cinema staples. And to understand why this film feels so groundbreaking, let's rewind to the roots of Black women in buddy comedies. In 1997, filmmaker Robert Townsend flipped the script with 'B.A.P.S.,' casting Halle Berry and the late Natalie Desselle-Reid as Georgia natives Nisi and Mickey—aka the 'Black American Princesses.' Their zany plan to crash a music video audition in L.A. turns into a con artist scheme targeting a wealthy, ailing millionaire for $10,000, mansion perks, and all. Sure, the film's rags-to-riches absurdity drew mixed reviews at the time—some critics dismissed it as 'trashy chic'—but it pioneered a space for Black women's joy, struggles, and triumphs in comedy. Fast-forward, and 'B.A.P.S.' has morphed into a cult favorite, its synergy between Berry and Desselle-Reid still echoing in today's films. As Lamont put it, it evoked powerful feelings about seeing Black women in leading roles, a rarity that resonates deeply.
Then came 'Girls Trip' in 2017, directed by Malcolm D. Lee and building on that momentum with a foursome of college pals—the Flossy Posse—rekindling their bond at the Essence Festival. This raunchy, R-rated romp exploded at the box office, raking in over $100 million and earning rave reviews for its celebration of Black sisterhood and unapologetic female humor. Written by Tracy Oliver and Kenya Barris, it paired Queen Latifah, Jada Pinkett Smith, Tiffany Haddish, and Regina Hall in a formula that outshone many contemporaries, drawing comparisons to hits like 'The Hangover' and 'Bridesmaids.' For context, the landscape for Black-led comedies wasn't exactly booming in the early 2000s or 2010s, but 'Girls Trip' proved there was hunger for these stories—it even sparked talks of a sequel, though a release date remains elusive. And this is the part most people miss: Could it be that Hollywood's reluctance to greenlight more such films stems from outdated assumptions about what sells, rather than genuine audience demand? It's a debate worth unpacking.
Buddy comedies might seem lighthearted on the surface, but they offer a profound platform for representation. Black women excel here, as evidenced by Palmer and SZA's electric chemistry, which mirrors the real-life wit we share in group chats, at sleepovers, or on social media. Humor isn't just entertainment for us—it's a coping mechanism, a way to bond and persevere through hardships. Yet, mainstream cinema has barely scratched the surface, leaving the buddy comedy canon feeling incomplete. Rae herself emphasized this in an interview, noting the drought since 'B.A.P.S.' and 'Girls Trip,' especially for true duo dynamics.
So, what's next? 'One Of Them Days' debuted to glowing reviews, snagging a perfect Rotten Tomatoes score and meme-worthy buzz that had social media abuzz post-January release. Black Twitter erupted with excitement over the trailer last fall, thrilled by the star power and the chance to see Black women as the stars of a high-profile comedy. But here's where it gets controversial: Is this film's success a sign of progress, or just a fleeting trend? With a sequel already in the works featuring Palmer and SZA, there's optimism it could ignite a renaissance for Black women in comedy. Rae hopes it becomes a timeless reference, pressuring studios to realize that diverse stories draw crowds. Yet, skeptics might argue that box-office numbers don't always translate to sustainable change—think about how many innovative films fade into obscurity without follow-up.
We can only hope 'One Of Them Days' carves out lasting space, proving that funny Black women duos deserve their own cinematic legacies. Catch it streaming on Netflix and join the conversation: Do you think this film will finally tip the scales for more representation, or is Hollywood still playing catch-up? Is there a controversial take I'm missing—maybe that 'niche' comedies like this one shouldn't have to fight so hard for mainstream love? Share your thoughts in the comments; I'd love to hear if you agree, disagree, or have your own insights on why buddy comedies matter!
