If It’s a Question of Money . . .

Calendar invited director Reginald Hudlin to offer his perspective on how things have changed in the 10 years he’s been making movies.

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When “House Party” debuted 10 years ago, hip-hop was considered so dangerous that a theater in Colorado refused to dim the lights completely when the film played. Now Ice Cube, Snoop and Eminem play to SRO stadium crowds of white kids. Instead of wondering whether hip-hop is a fad, critics today wonder if rock is dead.

I mention hip-hop in an essay about my career as an African American filmmaker because the music business plays an integral part in two of the biggest changes I’ve seen in my 10 years in Hollywood: (1) the ever broadening appeal of black cultural product in the global marketplace, and (2) the increasing financial clout of the black audiences.

From Louis Armstrong to Chuck Berry to James Brown, from Bill Cosby to Eddie Murphy to Will Smith, blacks have held a disproportionately prominent place in popular entertainment for the past half century.

For the most part, black cool has been translated to white audiences through white men, “with the Negro sound and feel,” to quote Elvis’ manager, Col. Tom Parker. But, in the Hip-Hop Era, white kids want their funk uncut. The audience for “black product” is broader than ever.

But what is a black film? “Black” is not a film genre, like comedy, musicals or period drama. Is it a film with a black lead (“Blue Streak”), with a predominantly black cast (“Next Friday”), or with a black director (“Hope Floats”)?

A black film is the one with the lower budget. Why? Because race only counts in the negative. If O.J. has taught us anything, it is that the importance of race declines with financial success. It doesn’t disappear--Bill Cosby still has a hard time hailing a cab in New York. But, in Hollywood, “black” is code for “limited appeal.” Black talent and black product with broad appeal are given honorary white status.

When my brother, producer Warrington Hudlin, and I were promoting our first film, “House Party,” we emphasized in interviews that the audiences had to come out the first weekend and “vote” with their dollars. If they wanted to see more black films, the battle was won or lost in the first 72 hours. Don’t wait to see it at the discount theater or on cable.

The Wall Street Journal picked up on this notion that the film was a litmus test for the broader economic viability of black films, raising the stakes even higher.

“House Party” cost $2.5 million to make. With cable and home video deals in place, the film recouped its negative costs before its $4.5-million opening weekend. It made 10 times its production cost in domestic theatrical alone. I don’t know exactly what it’s done in home video, but I’ve been told it is the most stolen movie from video stores. And it’s not just popular in black neighborhoods. An Orange Country video store owner told me “House Party” is one of his biggest rentals.

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While the economic model of “House Party” was very attractive, the subsequent flood of “hip-hop comedies” were bad movies that were contemptuous of both audiences and subject matter--including the sequels to “House Party,” which we had nothing to do with.

Still, there was plenty of money in “niche” films. New Line Cinema made a lot of money, and we weren’t doing so badly, either. My brother and I had offers from every studio in town. I wanted to emulate my idol, George Lucas, and follow up my coming-of-age comedy with a science-fiction epic.

While that dream was deferred, I got a call from Eddie Murphy, who offered me “Boomerang”--a fantastic opportunity. The film grossed almost $125-million in theaters worldwide, but the split response between white and black audiences illustrates the persistent cultural gap.

Murphy played a sophisticated, hip guy who meets his romantic match. Many white fans felt betrayed because he did not portray yet another “fast-talking con man.” Black audiences felt it was a dream come true: black characters who are intelligent and cool, who work at a black-run company, who are comfortable with their racial identity and their sexuality, and who live a comfortable lifestyle where whites are neither their alpha buddy nor their opponent--actually just irrelevant. The compliments I’ve received about the film from black moviegoers from Ice Cube to Kathleen Battle to airport skycaps underscore the hunger for images depicting not “black life,” but the diversity of black lives.

Movies like “The Best Man” and “Love and Basketball” have a harder time crossing over because they offer something to which white audiences are unaccustomed--a complex portrait of African American lives. Ultimately, a cinematic equivalent of “The Cosby Show’s” humanistic appeal would generate huge box office but would require perfect execution. Broad comedy is safer because there’s a greater margin for error. Even bad fart jokes get a chuckle.

However you cut it, black comedy is stronger than ever. With six networks fighting for eyeballs with cable channels, the network at the bottom of the ratings will be deploying a “black” programming strategy modeled on the early days of Fox. That means more “black” television shows, not to mention more token blacks on “white” shows, creating more black stars than ever. It’s important to note these comedians are blowing up on shows that the networks do not, or cannot, get white audiences to watch. If “Sanford and Son” and “The Jeffersons” debuted today, they would be relegated to UPN and play to a small fraction of the audience they reached three decades ago.

Segregated or not, these new shows have built a loyal fan base that follows their stars to the movies. Instead of the Cosby Era turning to the Pryor Period, then the Murphy Millennium, Martin Lawrence, Chris Tucker, Jamie Foxx, Chris Rock and the Wayans Brothers are mainstream movie stars simultaneously. With the exception of Chris Tucker, all used television comedies to solidify their fan base before becoming movie stars.

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With all this hot talent, it should be easy for black directors to get movies going. Well, it is easier--to a point. There are more black stars than ever, but once they get enough clout, they are reluctant to commit to movies that might fall prey to Hollywood “logic”: The self-fulfilling prophecy that black films don’t sell to the mainstream audiences (or international audiences), so don’t even bother trying.

Black directors are still seen as the “farm club,” developing stars but rarely traveling with them to the upper echelons of success. In some cases, careers suffer when actors no longer work with filmmakers who create vehicles showcasing the full range of their talents.

The most notable exception is Samuel L. Jackson, who not only works with Lucas, Steven Spielberg, Quentin Tarantino and Martin Scorsese, but also Kasi Lemmons, F. Gary Gray, John Singleton and me. I would argue he has one of best careers in town (both critically and commercially) because of this eclectic approach. Well, that and his gigantic acting talent.

Some social critics complain that black Hollywood does too much comedy. That’s like Kuwait complaining that it has too much oil.

One reason for the emphasis on black comedy is the globalization of the movie business. With the international market now providing 60% of a film’s potential revenues, studios look to broad comedy and action films, which travel best around the world. But black actors have not had the same success in the action genre as their comedic counterparts. Perhaps it’s because the black guy who punches the villain and gets the girl is perceived as more threatening to white audiences, or simply presumed to be perceived that way.

In either case, there’s a big pot of gold waiting for the company that decides to create specialized marketing campaigns promoting black films for each international territory, as they do with other culturally idiomatic material like “Wayne’s World.”

Returning to the music analogy, black musicians from Sidney Bechet to Jimi Hendrix have traveled overseas to receive acclaim they could not find in their homeland. If the Japanese go to Harlem to learn to jump double dutch while Germans and Italians make their own rap records, international audiences are more ready for black cinema than the buyers for those markets assume.

Black comedies are not the problem. It’s the lack of sufficient opportunities in other genres. That’s why I occasionally direct episodes of “City of Angels”--to support a diversity of black images. That’s why for 20 years, my brother has organized independent film festivals (most recently the Acapulco Black Film Festival), helping to make the current wave of black film in Hollywood possible.

It’s frustrating to be pigeon-holed as a black director, a comedy director, or any type based on prior work. Many of my friends are shocked to hear my plans for action films or historical dramas. It’s particularly frustrating when I see the kind of career mobility my white peers enjoy. It’s hard for white Hollywood to understand why black talent gets angry when, in the larger context, we live incredibly privileged lives. But, in any context, it’s impossible to take a “don’t worry, be happy” attitude while routinely battling racial prejudice even from people who mean no harm as they inflict it.

There will always be films that can’t be made inside the system. Until we no longer have to ask permission, we will have to prove our case one success at a time. Fortunately, the financial strength of black audiences is stronger than ever. The success of Walter Latham’s “Kings of Comedy” tour and Magic Johnson’s theater chain shows how much money corporate America has been ignoring until recently.

Who knows? Perhaps one or more of the black-owned dot-coms like Urban Entertainment or Okayplayer will survive the current shakeout and ultimately become our Paramount Pictures. In the meantime, Paramount is employing Singleton, Spike Lee, Thomas Carter, Chris Rock and me.

I appreciate the great summer. When a black-directed film like “Scary Movie” blows past the $100-million mark, it makes it easier for all of us to get that elusive green light. Maybe if I put some male full frontal nudity in my sci-fi epic . . . *

Hudlin’s latest movie, “The Ladies Man,” opens in theaters Oct. 13. The most recent episode he directed of the hospital drama “City of Angels” airs the night before on CBS.