Dissect - S6E12 - Formation by Beyoncé

Episode Date: July 7, 2020

We continue our serialized analysis of Beyoncé’s Lemonade by dissecting its final song and video “Formation.” The track is Beyoncé’s clarion call to the sisterhood of black women we’ve seen throughout Lemonade. She encourages them to “get in formation” -- to unite and take a stand against injustice and discrimination through unity, excellence, and harnessing Black Girl Magic. A visual guide for this episode can be found at dissectpodcast.com. Follow us on social media @dissectpodcast. S6 merch can be purchased at shop.dissectpodcast.com. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

From Spotify studios, this is Dysect, long-form musical analysis broken into short, digestible episodes. I'm your host, Tita Shadia. Today, we continue our serialized examination of Lemonade by Beyoncé. On our last episode, we dissected the chapter Redemption, which featured the song all night. There we witnessed the triumphant culmination of Beyonce's efforts throughout Lemonade to mend her broken relationship, reaffirm her dignity and worth, and pass on the wisdom of her ancestors to offer her children a better future. She celebrated the eternal love that was redeemed as a result of her journey, and weaponized this love as the greatest defense against the society shaped by the curse of slavery and

racism. It is this same love that she will now use to unite her community and make her final call to action in Lemonade's final track, the subject of our episode today, Formation. I see it. Formation was written by Mike Will Made It, Sway Lee, Ashton Hogan, and Beyonce. The song centers around a simple two-notes synth riff that leaves behind a trail of echoing eighth notes. Later, a second synth is stacked on top of the first. Formation then erupts as Mike Will made it adds his signature booming 808 drums. Later in the song, a drumline and brass section enters, evoking the formation or unison of a marching band.

Prior to hearing any sounds of formation, the video version of the track actually begins with a brief content warning that reads parental advisory explicit lyrics. While there are instances of profanity and formation, it seems this advisory more generally alerts the viewers that what's next will be Beyonce's most controversial, uncensored, and unapologetic video to date. This is confirmed in the video's eerie opening shot. Beyonce crouches on the hood of a police car halfway submerged in floodwater that extends to the horizon. Treetops and rooftops just barely peek over the high water line. Text on the side of the cruiser reads, New Orleans Police. This is clearly a recreation of the devastation following Hurricane Katrina in 2005. New Orleans and the surrounding area has served as the setting throughout lemonade.

Its significance is both personal and historical. Beyonce traces her maternal line. to the region, and the area houses the collective memory of the curse of slavery in settings like the Maidwood Plantation House and the Civil War ruins of Fort McComb. The initial images of Beyonce crouched on top of a New Orleans police car and Katrina floodwaters places the curse in more recent memory. This is the legacy of slavery here and now. Now the curse takes the form of systemic injustice, whether that be governmental neglect,

police brutality, or disproportionate incarceration rates. But while Beyonce acknowledges this curse as the violence that presently threatens black lives, she doesn't present New Orleans solely as a site of historical and contemporary trauma. As we've seen throughout Lemonade, she celebrates the full humanity of New Orleans and the people who live there, honoring the vibrant community, culture, traditions, and history of the city. It's from atop the police car that formation opens with the sample voice of a prominent New Orleans native. What happened at the New Orleans? Bitch, I'm back.

How popular the man. This is the voice of late YouTube personality, rapper, and bounce music star Anthony Barr, better known as Messi Maya. Messy Maya was a local celebrity in New Orleans, known for his biting wit as he teased residents on his Messy Cam YouTube vlog. As a job, bitch, I do this every day on the street, bitch. I walk around and talk about it. people.

Bitch, if you're bad built, you're a bad built, huh? Uh-huh. Bitch, if you build like a beanbag, you build like a beanbag, you build like a

Chrysler. Then bitch, you built like a Chrysler. In 2010, Maya was shot and killed after leaving a baby shower for his unborn son. His murder remains unsolved.

Thus, the sampled phrase, what happened at the New Orleans becomes a question regarding not only the governmental neglect of New Orleans during Katrina, but also his own death. As the music begins, we cut to more footage of flooded New Orleans neighborhoods as well as the back of a policeman's uniform.

Interspersed with these images are queer black men dancing. These images were taken from the 2014 documentary, That Beat, which explores the bounce music scene of New Orleans. Bounce music is a genre unique to the region, characterized by up-tempo dance beats, call-and-response vocals, sampling, and heavy bass. Messy Maya himself was a bounce artist and DJ. Here's one of his most popular tracks, Iberville.

Just as important to bounce music itself is audience participation, as it demands high energy dancing, shaking, and twerking. It's exuberant music that embraces sexuality, self-expression, and even life itself. The bounce subculture heavily intersect. with the LGBTQ community of New Orleans. To be joyful, black, queer, sexual, and confident is its own form of resistance, a counter-narrative against erasing forces.

And so within just a few seconds of formation, we are already seeing an effort to celebrate the positive aspects of New Orleans culture while simultaneously drawing attention to the systemic injustices its citizens face. Messy Maya's proclamation, bitch, I'm back by popular demand, doubles as an introduction of Beyonce herself,

as Formation marked her first new single in over two years. We cut back to a close-up of Beyonce, now leaning on her side atop the police car. It's here that she delivers the refrain of formation. Y'all haters corny with that Illuminati mess. Paparazzi catch my fly and my cocky fresh. I'm so reckless when I rock my Jivanshi dress. I'm so possessive so I rocked.

Beyonce looks into the camera sneering, y'all haters corny with that Illuminati mess. This line addresses the online conspiracy theory that Beyonce and Jay-Z are a part of a secret society that controls global politics. She dismisses those conspiracy theorists as corny, in large part because they discredit her immense talent and decades of hard work as the true catalyst for her success. She continues, Paparazzi Catch My Fly and My Cocky Fresh. Beyonce's relationship to the public aids has been a subtle theme throughout Lemonade. It was most notably acknowledged when she smashed a security camera with her baseball bat at the end of holdup, something we saw as evoking the leaked elevator tape that fueled speculation into her marriage.

Now in the final chapter of Lemonade, we see here that Beyonce actually invites the paparazzi to capture her, as she has nothing left to hide. She's empowered, emboldened, cocky, fresh, and in control of her narrative, a narrative that she'll now redirect towards both black pride and racial injustice. Beyonce continues, I'm so reckless when I rock my Jivanchi dress. I'm so possessive so I rock his rock necklaces. Here she refuses to adhere to societal expectations that demand a certain respectability from her as a black female artist. While she can wear an elegant French luxury brand like Jivanchi, she can simultaneously. be uninhibited and reckless. This may also be a direct reference to the night of the elevator incident at the Met Gala as Beyonce was wearing a black Jivanchi dress. Again, she's reclaiming the

narrative of that night and putting herself in a position of power. She further illustrates her refusal to adhere to stereotypical gender roles by donning her partner's jewelry not as a trophy wife, but rather due to her own agency and possessiveness over him. As we move into the second half of the we cut to the image of Beyonce wearing a maroon leotard with a deep V-neck. She rocks back and forth in unison with the troop of female dancers in an ornate plantation house hallway. Behind them are French Renaissance-style paintings of regal black women lining the halls. According to Formation Director Molina Matsukas, this detail was added to blackify the mansion. It's yet another instance of reclaiming a plantation home as a black space, much like Beyonce

and Serena Williams had done in the madewood plantation home earlier in the film. My daddy Alabama, Mama Louisiana, you mix that Negro with that Creole maker, Texas Bama. Hot sauce in my bag, swag. Beyonce highlights her distinctly southern heritage, noting both her father's home state of Alabama and her mother's Louisiana roots. She refers to herself as a Texas Bama. Bama is a term that historically served as an insult to rural, southern black people who moved north during the Great Migration. By boldly reclaiming the term

Bama, Beyonce redefines the insult as something to be proud of. It is exactly her black-southern upbringing that makes her powerful. From this hallway, Beyonce continues, I like my baby hair with baby hair and afros. This play on words praises her young daughter's natural hair, both her unstrained afro and her baby hairs, the short hairs at the hairline that black women artistically As she sings this line, we cut to an image of Beyonce's daughter, Blue Ivy. She's about five years old here, posing with two other young black girls wearing white dresses. Blue wears her hair in an afro and smirks to the camera as she places her hand on her hip. Blue Ivy was just two years old when a change.org petition surfaced demanding that Beyonce and Jay-Z

properly care for Blue Ivy's hair. The implication was that her natural hair was unruly and not neat enough, her parents' wealth. This critique was rooted in racist and colorist expectations of beauty that reject natural black hair and insist it must either conform to European beauty standards or be styled in a way that conforms to notions of respectability. This treatment of a then-two-year-old black toddler highlights the immense pressure on black girls and women to alter their natural appearance and conform to others' expectations. However, by portraying her daughter proudly, rocking her afro and playing tag with other girls,

Beyonce affirms her daughter just as she is. It's yet another vision of an unburdened future for black girls we've seen throughout lemonade. Beyonce continues singing, I like my negro nose with Jackson Five Nostrils. She again praises and embraces black features, rejecting racialized beauty standards that privilege white European features. She references Michael Jackson's younger Jackson Five Days, before the nose surgeries that left him with her,

the thinner nose as he aged. We also recognize that she could be using my negro nose, like one would say my niggas nose or my man's nose, and therefore might specifically be referencing Jay-Z and her love for not only black features, but black men. Beyonce concludes singing, Earned all this money, but they'll never take the country out me. She makes clear no amount of fame could distance her from her roots. As an example of this, she reveals that she carries hot sauce in her handbag. Hot sauce is, of course, a staple of black southern cuisine. This line recalls the deep cultural significance that food plays to unite communities and pass on traditions through generations. According to Hood feminism author Mickey Kendall, quote, Beyonce's talking to the Southern

and Great Migration Black Americans listening. To them, to us, it harkens to home, to childhood spent at fish fries, church picnics, and visiting relatives. It's a reference to a cultural connection, one that spans the diaspora of black American identity, unquote. Kendall also points out that this recognition may simultaneously evoke memories of Jim Crow segregation at a time when black men and women were barred from eating in white-only restaurants and establishments. According to Kendall, quote, when custom demanded that black people be served separately from whites, they were often required to have their own utensils, serving dishes, and condiments. So it was customary for black families who were

traveling to carry everything they might possibly need so that they could navigate America in relative comfort, unquote. Immediately following the hot sauce shoutout, the music is interrupted by another vocal interlude. I got hot sauce in my bag. Swag. Oh, yeah, baby. Oh, yeah. Oh, yes.

I like that. I did not come to play with you holds. I came to sleigh, bitch. I like carmorrheds and Gala greens, bitch. Oh yes, you best to believe it. As the music stops, we cut to Beyonce riding shotgun in a baby blue El Camino, with long braids hanging out the window as another woman drives. Once again, we hear the voice of Messy Maya offering his vocal approval.

As the music starts up again, we hear a booming voice proclaiming, I did not come to play with you, hos, I came to slay, bitch. This voice belongs to New Orleans bounce icon Big Frida, otherwise known as the Queen of Bounce. Big Frida has helped popularize bounce music, serving as an ambassador of the genre and exposing it to a global audience. In 2018, she appeared on Drake's song, Nice for What. Prior to these more mainstream guest appearances, Big Frida has been a staple in the New Orleans bounce scene for two decades. Here's her 2003 classic, Jen and My System. In 2005, Big Frida evacuated to Houston after Hurricane Katrina.

She quickly returned to New Orleans to start playing her weekly FEMA Friday shows at Caesar's Club. It was here that residents of New Orleans could come together to dance, have fun, and heal from the aftermath of the storm. Big Frida identifies as a gay man that uses female pronouns, and she offered her shows as a safe space for women and the LGBTQ community. A proud New Orleans, Big Frida embodies the confidence, resilience, and love for her community so vital to formation and lemonade. She concludes her interlude saying, I like cornbread and collagreens, bitch. Another shout out to the cuisine of the region. From this interlude, the scene transitions to a dimly lit, emptied swimming pool. This seems to be another recognition of historical racial injustice, the reasons for which we'll discuss right after the break.

Welcome back to Dissect. Before the break, we heard an interlude featuring the voice of the Queen of Bounce, Big Frida. Immediately after this interlude, we're introduced to a new scene that features Beyonce and her dance troupe in an empty swimming pool. Given all the allusions to racial injustice presented in formation, the emptied swimming pool most likely points to America's deep history of racial segregation and harassment. As public pools began to open across the United States in the 1920s and 30s, segregation laws were enacted primarily to keep black men from swimming with white women. In the decades following World War II, black Americans sought to desegregate pools. In service to this aim, protesters organized dive-ins or swim-ins during the civil rights movement.

At one such dive-in in 1964, protesters jumped into a white-only motel pool in Florida, only to have the white owner pour myriatic acid into the pool to intimidate them. The pool and formation is empty, and a line of female dancers with afros and matching body suits surround Beyonce, who sports her long, blonde braids. They form two lines and dance in unison as Beyonce repeats the refrain for the second time. As Beyonce's pace picks up, their motions become faster and more aggressive as they bounce back and forth to the beat.

Speaking on this swimming pool dance sequence, Culture critic Soraya Nadia McDonnell writes, quote, it represents a sort of specialness that can't be quashed, buttressed by the historical weight of the days when the hotel last frontier in Las Vegas drained its swimming pool because actress Dorothy Dandris dared to dip her foot in it. Because Dandridge was black, racist dictated that she was unclean and therefore unfit for the pool. Take away the water, and the swimming pool becomes a stage for one sequin-bedecked choreographed expression of, you mad? A joyous, unbossed, and unbought thumb in the eye of bigotry, unquote.

As the women line up and dance in unison at the bottom of the pool, they evoked the hip-hop major at dance troops of the historically black colleges and universities. These troops would later become the inspiration for Beyonce's 2018 homecoming Coachella performance. This drill team aesthetic is accompanied with the sound of the drumline and bass that carry into the song's hook. Beyonce boasts about her achievements in the industry earned through incomparable work ethic, grind, and tenacity. She turns yellow bone, a name for a person with a light-skinned black complexion, into a verb implying that her identity is integral to her success. She continues, I twirl on them haters, albino alligators.

The phrase, I twirl on them haters, is a reference to the catchphrase popularized by former Miss USA and current Real Housewives of Atlanta Star, Kenya Moore. The phrase expresses her carefree, dismissive attitude towards those who attempt to detract from her success. Kenya Moore defined twirl in a 2014 interview with Perez Hilton. Well, the twirl just has to be, you know, you just have to be feeling yourself, you know? You just have to just take a full circle and own it. But you can twirl haters off you, too. Someone says something, oh, I don't like your shoes or I don't like your makeup or I don't like the where you look,

uh, twirl on this and just twirl away. Beyonce's subsequent line, albino alligators, may refer to either the expensive rare alligator boots she wears or perhaps a descriptor of her haters themselves. Albino alligators are extremely rare,

and there are less than a dozen known to currently exist. However rare they may be, they stand out due to their light complexion, which leaves them vulnerable in the wild. Thus, Beyonce's cold-blooded haters pose no real threat to her. During this section of formation, we return to the inside of the decadent manner. We enter the parlor of the home decorated with antique furniture and more colonial-era portraits of black aristocrats. According to the production designer Ethan Tobman, quote,

This is not a house the slaves are working in. This is a house where the slaves are the masters, unquote. It's with this sense of black pride and power that Beyonce sits on a dilapidated red couch in the center of the parlor, rapping. Sometimes I go off. I go hard. Take what's mine. I'm a star. Surrounding her are five black women in white Victorian dresses fanning themselves as they repeat her words,

claiming the same agency, power, and stardom for themselves. Beyonce then declares, because I slay. This is another nod to the queer community, as the slang use of, of sleigh can be traced back to the 1920s and the New York City's LGBT subculture called Ball. Participants in a ball are primarily African American or Latin X, and the event consists of performances and competitions of people mostly in drag that range from posing, vogueing, dancing, and walking. Balls emerged as a way for members of the LGBT community to escape into a world of their own. It gave them a place of solace, it gave them family, and it

gave many of them a sense of belonging in a world that consistently ostracized and otherized them. Drag Queen Pepper LeBesia explains the importance of the ball in the 1990 documentary Paris is burning. A ball is the very word. Whatever you want to be, you be. So at a ball, you have a chance to display your arrogant, your seductiveness, your beauty, your witch, your charm, your knowledge. You can become anything and do anything right here. Right now, it won't be questioned. I came, I saw, I come.

That's a boy. Phrases like throwing shade, tea, yes, queen, and many others were all conceived at balls. This is also where the term slay came to be. When someone is slaying, it means that their hair, outfit, makeup, performance, or attitude is so flawless that they are metaphorically killing everyone and everyone, everything in their presence. It's the highest form of praise not just for your physical appearance,

but for your way of being. You can slay a job interview, a presentation, an exam, or even a home-cooked meal. Slay can also be a call to action or command. It sets the tone for the energy you're about to bring to a situation. If you're coming to slay, everybody else better get right or get left behind. And if you aren't coming to slay, then you might as well stay home. With her mantra of Slay, Beyonce affirms herself, the women surrounding her, and ultimately, her diverse audience as a whole. Just as she's done throughout Lemonade, Beyonce extrapolates her personal lyrics to at once celebrate her own personal achievements, but also the achievements of marginalized communities. I Slay All Day, We Gone Slae, is an unfettered proclamation of self-love, of black pride, of confidence and beauty. This sort of self-love and communal love

serves as the foundation for Beyonce's subsequent call to action. We pan out to a wide shot of a vast, empty parking lot where Beyonce and her troop of 16 dancers gather once again. Beyonce rallies her troop of ladies and the broader black audience by commanding them to get information. This seems to be Beyonce's rally cry to the marginalized communities alluded to throughout the video.

It's a call to band together in deliberate coordinated action to fight back against oppressive forces. As Zandra Robinson writes in her article, We Slay for her cite New Southern Negress, quote, Formation then is a metaphor, a black feminist, black queer, and black queer feminist theory of community organizing and resistance. To be successful, there must be coordination, the kind that choreographers and movement leaders do, the kind that black women organizers do in neighborhoods and organizations. To slay the violence of white supremacist heteropatriarchy, we must start, Beyonce argues, with the proper formation.

The proper formation is, she contends, made possible by the participation and leadership of a blackness on the margins, unquote. Information can refer to both the process of unified coordination and organization around racial justice and to the necessary educational component that accompanies such a movement. And so to get information, one must get information, or learn about the history, power, and movements of the culture by looking to the past to inform the future. Throughout Lemonade, Beyoncé was able to look to her ancestors for wisdom and decipher what parts of her history to preserve and what to discard. In the process, she makes direct and indirect references to historical figures such as Malcolm X, Nina Simone, Harriet Tubman, and Booker T. Washington, as well as, as present-day icons such as Serena Williams, Leah Chase, and Michaela de Prince. These influential and inspiring figures are representatives of Black excellence. They provide information on how to transcend the oppressive measures that were leveled

against them. Beyonce's closing line, Slay Tricker You Get Eliminated, once again draws from ball competitions. Beyonce places herself in a position of authority, ultimately deciding who has what it takes to make the cut and holding her audience to a high standard. Beyonce also appears to purposefully pronounce Eliminated as E-Leminated, a clever foreshadow of the album she would drop only two and a half months after formation premiered. As Beyonce directs her dancers to get in formation, they align with one another to form an X pattern on the ground.

This was understood by many to be an homage to the Black Liberation movement leader, Malcolm X, who Beyonce previously sampled in the chapter 8. anger. Beyonce and her dance troupe would repeat this choreography during the Super Bowl halftime show the day after formations release. Her dancers wore their hair in afros, along with leather jackets, and the signature black beret of the Black Panther Party. The Black Panthers were initially founded in Oakland, California in 1966 as a response to police brutality against black people. Black Panther members carried guns in the streets, their legal right, monitoring the behavior of police officers.

The Black Panthers were also known for their social programs aimed to aid the black community, such as free health care clinics and free breakfast for children. Beyonce's Malcolm X tribute and the Black Panther costuming angered some conservative commentators who believed the performance to be anti-police. Former mayor of New York, Rudy Giuliani, voiced his critique on Fox News the day after the Super Bowl performance. Well, not Hollywood. And I thought it was really outrageous that she used it as a platform to attack people. police officers, who are the people who protect her and protect us and keep us alive and what we

should be doing in the African American community and all communities is build up respect for police officers and focus on a fact that when something does go wrong, okay, we'll work on that. But the vast majority of police officers risked their lives to keep us, keep us safe. In response to this sort of criticism, Beyonce told Elle magazine, quote, I'm an artist and I think the most powerful art is usually misunderstood. But anyone who perceives my message as anti-police is completely mistaken. I have so much admiration and respect for officers and the families of officers who sacrifice themselves to keep us safe.

But let's be clear, I am against police brutality and injustice. Those are two separate things. If celebrating my roots and culture during Black History Month made anyone uncomfortable, those feelings were there long before a video and long before me. I'm proud of what we created, and I'm proud to be a part of a conversation that is pushing things forward in a positive way, unquote. It's the same unbothered attitude that we see in the second verse of the formation video. Beyonce occupies the front porch of the plantation manner. She wears an off-the-shoulder black dress and a wide brim black hat that obscures her face.

Only her deep purple lips are visible. Her neck and wrists are adorned with silver jewelry, and she styled her hair into two. long braids. She's also accompanied by five black men that are dressed in what would be considered high fashion in the antebellum era, underscoring the fact that they are the masters of this house. With two middle fingers up, Beyonce brazenly wraps, When he fucks me good, I take his ass to Red Lobster. Slim Jimmy of Ray Shremmered wrote the original lines as, If you fuck me good, I'll take your ass to Margella's, a luxury brand fashion house. Beyonce herself rewrote the line to give a shout out to the more accessible seafood chain founded in the South.

And has a real-life testament to her influence in power, Red Lobster saw a 33% increase in sales after formation released. In the next line, Beyonce again reverses the conventional gold digger trope as she promises to take her man to the mall via a helicopter so he can purchase some Jordans. These humorous power plays continue into the verse's conclusion. station. Beyonce, Biosk, I might get your song played on the radio station, but makes no promises. While she holds the kind of power that could instantly put an artist on the map, she also reserves the right to withhold that power. Throughout her career, Beyonce has used her influence to create opportunities for other artists.

In 2006, she put together her all-female touring band, The Sugar Mamas, to showcase talented female musicians. Throughout the Lemonade film, we saw Beyonce elevate young black artists such as Chloe and Haley, Ibeye, as well as actresses Amanda Lestenberg, Covangenet-Wallis, and Zendaya. Beyonce has discussed her desire to use her influence to assist younger artists. She told Vogue magazine, quote, It's important to me that I help open doors for younger artists. There are so many cultural and societal barriers to entry

that I like to do what I can to level the playing field to present a different point of view for people who may feel like their voices don't matter, unquote. Beyonce continues formation singing, You might just be the next Bill Gates in the making. She then repeats the line casting herself as the next Bill Gates. She envisions a future where the most powerful person in the world can be a southern black woman. As Beyonce repeats the second chorus, we cut to the image of an older black gentleman in his Sunday best displaying a newspaper to the camera. This fictional paper titled The Truth features a photo of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. with the headline, more than just a dreamer.

The subheading reads, What is the real legacy of the revolutionary leader and why was he recast as an acceptable Negro leader? This paper calls attention to the historical whitewashing of King's legacy, which emphasizes the more agreeable elements of his life's work. Meanwhile, much of King's more radical aspects of his politics are ignored, such as the disruptive tactics of civil disobedience, his call for economic redistribution of wealth, and his criticism of moderate whites who seek to preserve the status quo rather than embracing revolutionary change.

As radical as King was, his name is evoked by some white politicians to condemn the Black Lives Matter movement. In 2015, former Arkansas governor, Mike Huckabee, said the following in a CNN interview. And when I hear people scream, black lives matter, I'm thinking, of course they do. But all lives matter. It's not that any life matters more than another. That's the whole message I think that Dr. King tried to present. And I think it'd be appalled by the notion that we're elevating some lives above others.

It's this sort of a historical representation of King that Beyonce calls to question with this fictional paper. King devoted his life's work to the justice for black lives and often did so in ways that upset the existing power structures of his day. With her inclusion of Martin Luther King Jr's image as well as the Super Bowl tribute to Malcolm X and the Black Panthers, Beyonce invites us to consider the rich tapestry of black activism and various racial justice movements. She urges us to examine these histories not in a sanitized retelling, but to see these historical figures for who they are in their entirety. As Beyonce sings the final chorus, we see a young black boy dancing in an alley. He wears a black hoodie pulled over his head, a blatant evocation of

Trayvon Martin. Facing the boy is a row of seven white male police officers in riot gear. They remain motionless as the young boy dances in front of them. This encounter evokes a number of confrontations between law enforcement and black men and women that ended in violence. It also alludes to the standoffs between Black Lives Matter protesters and the police in areas such as Baltimore, Maryland and Ferguson, Missouri. Clearly, the young black boy dancing poses no threat to the officers who wear helmets and bulletproof vests. This calls attention to the stereotyping of all black people as threatening, a description that has been used to justify lethal force after the fact. However, as poet Claudine Rankin states, quote,

When white men are shooting black people, some of it is malice and some and out of control. image of blackness in their minds. Darren Wilson told the jury that he shot Michael Brown because he looked like a demon. And I don't disbelieve it. Blackness in the white imagination has nothing to do with black people, unquote. It's this very dehumanization, this distorted view of black people that would cause a line of police officers to view a young black child as a threat. Formation director Molina Matsukas hoped to offer a counter-narrative to these stereotypes and

portray the black community as it is. Quote, I wanted to show, this is black people. We triumph, we suffer, we're drowning, we're being beaten, we're dancing, we're eating, and we're still here, unquote. This survival story is exemplified with the final scene in the standoff between the boy and police. With his final dance move, the boy stops and stretches his arms out from his sides, seeming to mimic Jesus Christ on the cross.

This is the punctuation of his dance routine that Masukas called a, quote, peace dance. This emphasis on peace, joy, love, and sacrifice as an antidote to oppressive forces is of course precisely the message of lemonade as a whole. We recall specifically what we heard from the anonymous woman speaking in Resurrection, a chapter that featured mothers of the movement holding portraits of their murdered sons. So how are we supposed to lead our children to the future? What do we do? How do we lead them?

Love. L-O-V-E love. Hallelujah, thank you, I just love the Lord. I'm sorry, brother. I love the Lord. That's all I got. The woman cites love as the way

to lead the future generations of black children. She then confesses her love for Jesus Christ. This marked a turning point in the narrative of Lemonade, as Beyonce embraced this message as she turned her attention to communal healing, and leading the black community forward. It would seem that this message is being punctuated a final time here in formation. The young black boy, who seems to represent future generations, responds to his oppressors

with a peace dance and then mimics Christ on the cross. Just as Jesus was crucified by the governing powers of his day, so too were young black men like Michael Brown and others murdered by the governing powers of the present day. However, despite their physical deaths, they are immortalized and wrong. resurrected by the living who have determined that the murders of black men and women will not be in vain. We say their names as often as we can so no one can ever forget their story. We also refuse to repress who we are because it makes some people feel uncomfortable. We will continue to dance, love, laugh, and excel as a form of resistance to oppressive forces who would rather

see us in chains or body bags. Surprisingly, the line of policemen respond to the board, dance by raising their arms in surrender. Through his dancing, his joy, his assertion of his own humanity, this young boy vanquishes the power of systemic racism and state violence. With the next scene, we cut to a graffiti wall that reads, stop shooting us. This is another anti-police brutality phrase commonly used by the Black Lives Matter movement. It's the simple and direct request that black people are recognized as human beings and that we are protected rather than threatened by the state. Here toward the closing moments of formation and lemonade as a whole,

it seems Beyonce and her creative team are drawing a line in the sand. Enough is enough. It's time for a change. I say, okay ladies, now let's get information. I say, okay ladies, now let's get information. You know you that bitch when you cause all this conversation. Always stay gracious, best revenge is your paper. With her concluding lines, we returned to Beyonce standing on a plantation mansion porch.

She finally lifts her wide-brim black hat to reveal her full face. Looking directly at the camera, she boasts, you know you that bitch when you cause all this conversation. This predicted the media storms of think pieces, hot takes, and criticism that she knew was coming after formation's release. The song and videos overt and unapologetic call for justice was a very much. Beyonce's most explicit political engagement in her work to date. Having attained the highest level of artistry and fame, it could be easy for Beyonce to stay silent on issues in the black community. Instead, she's found the delicate balance between pop and political, using her massive platform to challenge unjust systems and celebrate

marginalized communities. Beyonce concludes the song with a final piece of advice for her audience. As she rubs her fingers together, she says, always stay gracious, the best revenge is your paper. Just as Beyonce's best revenge against haters are her unquestioned achievements and massive earnings, she urges her audience to also exact revenge by thriving in the face of any barriers to success they face. But this line has ramifications beyond personal success. Beyonce also refers to the idea that building wealth within the black community can function as a political strategy for empowerment and self-determination.

This is a theme both she and Jay-Z would expound on in subsequent works, such as Jay-Z's song Legacy from the album 444. Generation of wealth, that's the key. My parents ain't had shit, so that shift started with me. And in their collaboration, Boss, from their joint album, Everything is Love. Ain't nothing to that boss about my mama with. My great, great-grandchildren already rich. That's a lot of brown.

And so, the best revenge is your paper can refer to both the personal grind and the elevation of the black community through generating wealth and supporting each other's achievements. This revenge can also be by getting paper in the educational sense, such as earning diplomas or making contributions to the historical record. As the music phase, we cut back to the image of Beyonce on the hood of the police car. Now she lies down on the car with her arms outstretched

as the floodwaters begin to wash over her. We hear the faint sounds of a police siren and a gunshot. Then we hear the voice of Kimberly Rivers Roberts, a New Orleans residence whose firsthand footage of Hurricane Katrina became the basis for the 2008 documentary, Trouble the Water. The clip used here comes from one of Kimberly's home videos as the levees broke and flooded her name. neighborhood. She stood in her doorway in awe as water rose to the height of a stop sign on her

street corner. Beyonce echoes this painful history of Hurricane Katrina as the waveswashed over her body, and she and the police cruiser slowly sink into the water's murky depths. Director Melina Matsukas said of the scene, quote, I wanted it to be a police car to show that they hadn't really shown up for us and Katrina, and that we were still here on top, and that Beyonce was one with the people who had suffered, unquote. Beyonce then drowns in solidarity with both those who'd lost their lives or were displaced due to Katrina. But additional significance to this moment comes when we notice that as she's sinking into the water, Beyonce peacefully closes her eyes and holds her arms outstretched in a familiar Christ's pose. This recalls the same exact pose the dancing boy made in front of the police just moments

ago. Not only that, but it actually calls all the way back to Lemonade's very first chapter, intuition. It was there we saw Beyonce like the dancing boy, dressed in a black hoodie as she stretched her arms out like Christ and jumped from a rooftop. This pivotal leap of faith set off Beyonce's confrontation of the familial and historical curses that plagued her and her family. She falls not to her death, but into a huge body of water, thus beginning her life-changing transfer Here at the end of Lemonade, it appears Beyonce is returning to the water from once she came. Her peaceful reentry into those waters with the same Christ pose seems to symbolize her acceptance of her past, present, and future. She is no longer haunted by the curses and wounds she felt to find her life in the lives of the generations before and after her.

She now knows the healing and transformation both water and faith bring. She knows the resilience of the black community can never be truly flooded. She knows that the history of our people have proven throughout generations that our spirit will never drown in the waters they submerge us under. We are the alchemists, wielding water into wine, making a way out of no way, transforming pain into purpose, turning lemons into lemonade. And to this very point, the film doesn't end with Beyonce sinking into the floodwater. Instead, Beyonce resurrects in the film's final shot.

We once again return to the Manor Parlor to see Beyonce dressed in an all-white negligee, holding a parasol umbrella as she looks directly into the camera. She flicks her wrists in a gesture Melina Matsukas calls, the black girl hand grab, and forms it into a fist. This is a final moment of resistance, a refusal to allow death to have the last word. This is the parting shot of Formation and Lemonade as a whole, one of feminine defiance, celebration, and victory. Conclusions

Y'all hate us corny with that Illuminati mess. Formation serves as Lemonade's finale, the sum total of all of Beyonce's efforts throughout the visual album. She's undergone a transformative journey, beginning with suspicion and betrayal, opening her up to examine the ways in which she and black women in general

are subject to societal injustices more broadly. By naming these injustices, expressing her pain, rejoicing in her beauty, reclaiming her worth, and understanding her past, she found forgiveness and healing. She was able to redeem not only her marriage, but also her children and subsequent generations of black women. Having undergone this process of transformation,

she emerges in formation as her most empowered, most liberated self. However, she's not undergone this process alone, but with a sisterhood of black women who accompanied her throughout her journey, whether in the Jim Crow bus of apathy, the baptismal waters of Reformation, or the Spanish moss-covered oak tree tops of freedom.

Formation is her final clarion call to these black women to recognize that same liberation for themselves, to unlock the infinite potential within them, to transcend oppressors with excellence, to unify and to slay. Today's episode of Dysect was written by Maggie Lacey, Cole Kushna, and me. Remember, you can find visual guides for each episode on Dysectpodcast.com, which also includes links to any articles cited on today's episode.

While you're there, be sure to check out our limited season six merchandise and be sure to follow us on social media at Dysect Podcast. Additional analysis and research for today's episode by Michael Bundalo and Gail Acosta. Audio editing by Eric Bass and Cole Kushna. Song Recreations by Andrew Atwood. Theme music by Birocratic. Okay, thanks everybody. Talk to you next week.