The Watermelon Woman (1996)
There's a moment near the start of The Watermelon Woman where the camera just lingers on the inside of a video rental shop, and I felt it land somewhere in my chest before a single plot point had been established. The rows of VHS cases, the counter, the particular geography of that vanished world. I miss those places more than I can reasonably explain, and the fact that a film from 1996 could trigger that kind of ache in me before it had even got going is a decent sign that something's working.
Cheryl Dunye wrote, directed and stars in this, her debut feature, playing a version of herself: Cheryl, a video store clerk with a camera and an obsession. The obsession is a Black actress she keeps spotting in old 1930s films, credited only as "the Watermelon Woman," a name that tells you everything about how this woman was seen and nothing about who she actually was. Cheryl sets out to find her, and what follows is part mock-documentary, part comedy, part genuinely moving piece of cultural archaeology. It was also, when it came out, the first feature film directed by an out Black lesbian, and knowing that adds a layer to every frame without the film ever leaning on it as a crutch.
The closest comparison I can reach for is early Kevin Smith. This has exactly that Clerks energy: low-budget, talky, built on long funny conversations between people you want to spend time with. Dunye herself is an easy, warm presence at the centre of it all, and the film has a hang-out quality that makes its modest running time feel genuinely relaxed rather than thin. You're not watching it for spectacle. You're watching it because the company is good.
It isn't flawless. Some of the performances in the supporting roles are patchy, and the faux-documentary structure can feel makeshift in places, the joins showing a little too clearly. There are moments where the scrappiness tips from charming into rough. But Dunye has something real to say underneath all the warmth and comedy, about the way Black women were erased from film history, about the effort required to construct an identity when the culture has barely acknowledged that people like you exist at all. The film is funny enough that it could get away with saying nothing of substance, and it still chooses not to.
It also made me think about The Purple Rose of Cairo, another film about someone who falls headlong into the gap between the movies they love and the life they're actually living. Dunye's Cheryl is doing something similar: projecting meaning onto a flickering image, trying to make the screen give back something it was never designed to offer. Both films understand that cinema can be a kind of longing as much as a pleasure.
The rabbit hole the film sent me down afterwards, rooting around in the history of Black performers in early Hollywood, felt like the most natural possible response to it. That's the mark of a documentary instinct working properly, even when the documentary itself is, by design, partially invented. The "Watermelon Woman" is a fictional creation, but the erasure she represents is entirely real, and Dunye is sharp enough to make you feel both things at once.
Three and a half stars. Scrappy, clever, heartfelt and more significant than its tiny budget has any right to suggest. And if the opening shot of a video shop quietly breaks your heart a little, well. You're in good company.
Rating: ★★★½ | Year: 1996 | Watched: 2026-09-03
Where to watch
Watch in the UK
Stream: MUBI · MUBI Amazon Channel
Rent: Google Play Movies · YouTube
Buy: Google Play Movies · YouTube
Physical: Amazon UK · Zavvi
Watch in the US
Stream: Criterion Channel
Rent: Amazon Video · Apple TV Store · Google Play Movies · YouTube
Buy: Amazon Video · Apple TV Store · Google Play Movies · YouTube
Physical: Amazon US
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