Rating: 3.5/5
This article contains spoilers for the film ‘Cancelled: The Paula Deen Story.’
There is your truth, my truth, and a southern cook’s truth – perhaps more. Cancelled: The Paula Deen Story aims to contextualize a highly televised controversy and its impact on a family, one involving a ‘disgraced’ TV chef, the derailment of her quickly-grown empire, and the use of a racial slur , namely, the N-word.
When I walked into Scotiabank Theatre to watch the documentary, by filmmaker Billy Corben, I was skeptical about how a story of this kind would be told. Would it reveal something new? Would a different ‘verdict’ be made? Would it drive conversation about cancel culture? Would it inspire dialogue?
Bobby Deen, son of the former southern daytime TV chef, shared his reservations about the need for a documentary discussing his mother’s circumstance. He explained that he chose to be part of the film because his mother and brother Jamie chose to interview.
But Bobby need not fear. The film conveyed a sympathetic and humanistic tone. It depicted Paula’s infectious personality, quip lines, soft voice, rags-to-riches history, and memorable laugh. Her southern charm was placed front and centre.
Corben uses Deen, mentor Gordon Elliott, and her sons to detail her personal history. Details were shared about her upbringing in Albany, Georgia during the segregation era, her marriage at 18, the loss of her parents within four years of each other, the revelation about her ancestral ties to a plantation owner, the instability that led to 23 relocations, and the grassroots story about her flagship restaurant (which seems to have started it all) Lady & Sons.
What began as a hope, prayer, and one more bad cheque, led to a skyrocketing career on the Food Network, appearances on “The Oprah Winfrey Show,” public feuds with Chef Anthony Bourdain, and a multi-million-dollar empire that seemed rather unshakeable.
“You know I love surprises,” Deen says during the documentary.
The surprise was Deen’s truth, and it was tricky. The scandal began in 2013, when Deen and her brother Earl “Bubba” Heirs were sued by former employee Lisa Jackson – who we later learn is white – over accusations of sexual and racial harassment. During a deposition, a lawyer asked Deen if she had ever used the racial slur herself, to which she said, “Yes, of course.”
She said she probably used the racial slur while relaying a story to her husband, which was of a Black man who “burst” into a bank that she was working at and put a gun to her head.
Within a few months of the deposition, the lawsuit had been settled, but the damage had also been done. She lost her cooking show with the Food Network, lost brand deals with companies like Walmart and Home Depot, and faced an accusation from a (former) friend who claimed she had been treated poorly by Deen due to race.
“Within 24 hours, I lost everything,” Deen said.
The documentary was directed in a “classic-sit-down” style, keeping the audience at eye level with each individual on screen. This approach created an intimate atmosphere, one that felt like having a conversation at home. It felt real.
“Throwback” photos and videos were used in both wholesome and subtly unexpected ways. Old photographs of a young Deen felt warm and nostalgic, while footage of her television appearances portrayed her in a way that seemed “larger than life.” The direction was a balance between the past and present, and used a fluid and chronological technique. Corben was able to create a seamless flow.
Michael Twitty, a Black Jewish writer, culinary historian, and educator whose open letter to Deen went viral in 2013, served as an analytical, kind, natural, and critical voice during the film – to which he says he was not surprised by the revelations regarding the former television chef’s deposition.
The inclusion of Twitty as a voice of dissent created a certain kind of dialogue throughout the film, and that, too, was well balanced. To hear Twitty’s analytical rebuttals, and to witness his empathy while offering suggestions to the contrary and toward forward movement, felt necessary, and critical for the inclusion of differing experiences and perspectives.
Before the film’s screening, Corben spoke to the audience. He explained that the documentary was still a work in progress. This implied to me that he believed there was more of Deen’s story left to tell.
That remains to be seen.
