The scene is straight out of Boots Riley’s madcap moviemaking handbook. In a city where Black residents have been steadily priced out, the two of us sit—Riley wearing one of his signature hats, me hatless—swapping stories over lunch as rock music drains from the speakers. This is Oakland, the director’s longtime home, and perhaps our talk wouldn’t feel so surreal if it weren’t the exact kind of thing Riley, impresario of all things Black and bizarre, would write into one of his scripts. Ext. A Japanese fusion restaurant. Two Black men chow down on fried chicken, pondering their existence.
As an artist, Riley embodies a kind of allegorical immodesty. How to put it? He thrives in contradiction, happily stews in what he calls the “beautiful clutter” of life. It has become a mirror for his gloriously hyphy cinematic staging: He doesn’t build worlds so much as stretch the one we already inhabit to its fantastical extreme.
Where his 2018 cult film Sorry to Bother You swerved into the funk and fuss of late-stage capitalism, manipulating the gonzo curiosity of science fiction to make a decidedly Black satire about labor, survival, and what, if anything, it means to sell out, his latest endeavor, I’m a Virgo, cranks the bass. It’s a seven-episode ride about a 13-foot-tall, comic-book-obsessed Black kid named Cootie (Jharrel Jerome) who, after years of being hidden from the world by his adoptive parents for fear that he’ll be exploited—or killed—ventures into the cosmos of Oakland, where the gentrifying city, policed by a white vigilante lawman known as the Hero, greets him with wonder and revulsion.
I won’t be the first or last to tell you: There is nothing else on TV quite like I’m a Virgo. The show is a perfect response to this furious moment, awash in contradictions. Over the past three decades, Riley has been a filmmaker, community organizer, and a member of the radical rap group the Coup. Now, amid a Hollywood writers strike, of which he’s been a vocal participant, he’s releasing a series about tearing down our broken economic system and building one that feeds power back to the people. Set in a town transformed by Silicon Valley, the show follows Cootie and a group of young activists who strive to dismantle that system from the inside. It’s streaming on Amazon Prime.
As the block hums in and out of consciousness, Riley tells me he does not believe in a “gentler capitalism.” There’s an ease to the day, one that belies the reality of what’s happening across the city: exorbitant rents, a homelessness crisis, bureaucratic decay. Oakland is the place he’s devoted his life and work to, but it doesn’t always feel that way anymore. So we talk about how art can be a means for revolution. In Riley’s world, the only way forward is to disrupt from within.
Jason Parham: I’m a Virgo’s hero is a 13-foot-tall young Black man. What is it about his story that felt meaningful to tell?
Boots Riley: I didn’t think about it like that.
OK, then where did the idea come from?
I’m attracted to large contradictions. I think about what I would think of as a good lyric. There’s this setup, which hopefully is good and says something in and of itself. But then there’s this other line that comes in that maybe feels ironic, right? Like a contradiction you weren’t expecting. It surprises. It points out something.
In I’m a Virgo, the contradiction lies in the character of Cootie. He is a towering figure, both physically and metaphorically, representing the marginalization and oppression faced by Black people in society. By telling his story, Riley aims to shed light on the struggles and resilience of individuals who are often overlooked or silenced. Cootie’s journey into the cosmos of Oakland symbolizes the exploration of one’s identity and the confrontation of societal prejudices.
The show’s setting in a gentrifying city policed by a white vigilante lawman adds another layer of contradiction. Oakland, like many other cities, has faced the negative consequences of gentrification, pushing Black residents out of their neighborhoods and erasing their cultural heritage. By portraying this tension between wonder and revulsion, Riley draws attention to the complexities of gentrification and its impact on marginalized communities.
I’m a Virgo is not just a television show; it is a powerful commentary on our broken economic system and the need for change. Riley, with his background as a community organizer, understands the importance of dismantling oppressive structures and creating a more equitable society. The series follows Cootie and a group of young activists who challenge the system from within, reflecting Riley’s belief in the power of grassroots movements and collective action.
Amidst the exorbitant rents, homelessness crisis, and bureaucratic decay plaguing Oakland, Riley sees art as a means for revolution. Through his storytelling, he seeks to disrupt the status quo and inspire others to question the prevailing narratives of capitalism. He rejects the idea of a “gentler capitalism,” recognizing that true change requires a fundamental reimagining of our economic and social structures.
In a world filled with contradictions, Riley’s work serves as a reminder of the power of art to provoke thought, challenge norms, and inspire action. I’m a Virgo stands as a testament to his unique vision and his commitment to using storytelling as a tool for social change. By pushing the boundaries of imagination and exploring the intersections of race, class, and power, Riley invites audiences to question their own role in shaping a more just and inclusive society.
As the lunch comes to an end and we step out into the bustling streets of Oakland, the echoes of our conversation linger. Boots Riley, a visionary artist unafraid to tackle difficult subjects and unconventional narratives, continues to defy expectations and push the boundaries of storytelling. Through I’m a Virgo and his other works, he invites us to imagine new possibilities and to join him in the pursuit of a better, more equitable world.