TubiTown: Detroit’s influence on the resurgence of Blaxploitation films

In 2020, while the world was on lockdown due to the COVID-19 pandemic, a lot of us felt isolated from our loved ones; on top of that, an astounding death toll, hundreds of thousands of layoffs, and a whole new level of respect for essential workers.

While many of us were planning our next move at home, that year provided an outlet for independent filmmakers: Tubi, a free-to-use streaming platform that is more lenient with content and offers better profit splits compared to Netflix, Hulu, and other similar services. Fox acquired Tubi in March 2020, and within months the platform achieved record growth, solidifying its position as a true contender in the streaming world. Detroit-based film creators such as Dennis Reed II, Beasy Jones, Lisa Brown, Thomas L. Harris, and others have contributed dozens of films and television episodes to the platform, usually working with a shoestring budget and most of them with a shooting schedule just under two weeks and a crew of fewer than 30 — gaffers, makeup artists, stylists, production assistants, script supervisors, actors, sound engineers, videographers, producers, and other on-set jobs to make sure things run smoothly. Did I forget to mention that the cast and crew of these productions are predominantly Black or people of color? Films and television shows such as Weight, Buff’d Up, The Dirty D, Pillow Talk, McGraw Ave, and a seemingly endless amount of content created by Detroiters for Detroiters flood the platform, giving the city the nickname “TubiTown.”

While going down the rabbit hole of Black-led original Tubi content, I couldn’t help but notice the striking comparison between TubiTown films of now and a genre of movies from the 1970s that cast people of color as a new type of protagonist. Until then, Black actors were mainly depicted in roles such as servants, sidekicks, or victims, and seldom in leads, which let Hollywood control the narrative of how Black people were perceived to general audiences. Films such as Superfly, Sweet Sweetback’s Badasssss Song, Coffy, Shaft, Dolemite, and more gave power to Black creators during a tumultuous time in American history. Of course, I’m talking about Blaxploitation films. 

A term coined by Junius Griffin, then President of the Beverly Hills-Hollywood chapter of the NAACP, Blaxploitation was a movement that breathed new life into how Black people and people of color were portrayed in cinema. Melvin Van Peebles, Pam Grier, Jim Brown (yes, the NFL Hall of Fame fullback), and Richard Roundtree are some of the notable names in this subgenre of cinema. 

While examining the comparison of Blaxploitation films and the Tubi category “Black Cinema,” as labeled on the platform, a strong correlation is evident between the two, for better or worse. As impressive as it is to see Black independent creators thrive in an industry that has long exploited people of color, both come with their forms of criticism and controversy of the narrative, quality, and playing into stereotypes on screen. While the Blaxploitation era put Black actors in lead roles, a lot of those roles were pimps, drug dealers, sex workers, and other forms of “underworld” employment, and putting them in storylines that make them out to be the hero, a far cry from a typical Hollywood film of that time that would otherwise depict them as a victim or antagonist. A good amount of the “Black Cinema” films found on Tubi follow a similar narrative, often criticized for depicting stereotypes and Black trauma that have frequently been the problem with major Hollywood films such as Precious, 12 Years a Slave, Till, and others. My rebuttal is that do audiences not love to root for the villain? Shows such as Scarface, The Godfather, Snowfall, and Breaking Bad take the viewer on a journey from the perspective of the main character, framing the antagonist in a way that makes them out to be the protagonist and vice versa. At some point, the viewer becomes so invested in the character arc and narrative that they may struggle to root against the character, despite having witnessed horrific acts. 

I wasn’t around for the inception of this era of film; however, luckily for me, my aunt played the role of Mrs. Freddie in the 1972 film Superfly. I wanted to hear her take on the era, so I decided to give her a call for some insight. “The part in Superfly was a fluke,” she says. “I was at dinner one night with some friends. One of the people there was a producer on the film, and they were discussing how they had cast a role for Freddie’s wife. My friend said, ‘Why don’t you do it?’” 

One of the great things about independent film is that it opens the door to possibilities for those in front of and behind the camera who may not get the same look on a major movie lot. Recently, I had the opportunity to visit the set of an upcoming movie Play the Field, which was being shot at Encore Lounge and Grill on the city’s west side. It was directed by Beasy Jones and stars Tory Monay, Bianca Samone Williams, Snap Dogg, Marietta Elliott, LeMastor Spratling, Grover McCants, Yvette Helena Wiley, Tristin Fazekas, Devon Buskin, and Darrell “D Da Don” Arnold, who also produced the film. The story follows Phil, a football coach who faces an internal battle between his faithfulness to his wife and his desire for other women, which comes to a head when a life-changing accident occurs. With that, he takes the accident as a sign to put his selfish desires away and give his life back to God. I’m all for a good redemption arc and solid plotline.

As someone entirely new to film production, one of my first questions was about the biggest challenges of being on a film set. “Getting on the same page creatively,” Reggie B, who worked on gaffing and lighting on the film, says. “Everyone has their vision, you know what I’m sayin’. Since I handle lights, I have to obtain them from the [director of photography] and see what they want; then the director may step in and say, ‘Hey, make this daylight instead,’ and I have to adjust accordingly. I deal with this; every other department has its major challenge.” 

“I think scheduling, scheduling, and being damn near like a counselor on set,” says Zeke, another gaffer on the set. “Dealing with different personalities and interacting with all the talent and crew is kinda crazy.”

Zeke says he is self-taught and got into the industry by doing the work. In 2018, he and Jones were working at a local technology school with student filmmakers. “We took them out to use their cameras, used this footage, and then came back to edit it,” he says. “I was still learning while I was teaching. Each opportunity led to something else; that opportunity, in turn, led to something else. I met [Jones] at the end of his first movie, and from then on, we have been rocking out on every project together.”

When it comes to the arts, it’s essential to stay a student, because stagnation leads to creative death. “Always; it’s a forever learning process,” Zeke says. “When you’re not a student or have an open mindset, you will lose out on opportunities and growth. It’s something I’ve learned; I’ve picked up knowledge and stayed humble. Anyone who looks to tell me something, I listen, because I know I don’t know everything.” I then ask Zeke about his take on Detroit becoming “TubiTown.” “I love it because I was a part of it and didn’t even know it,” he says. “I was in the midst of history being made. I got to work withA Line Cinema, Mula Films, and Beasy Jones. I was one of the first ones [working on] when they came out with 211, Plug Love, and Buffed Up; that was our first big wave. I was fortunate to be surrounded by that energy. I didn’t know that I was in the midst of us becoming that ‘HollyHood,’ you know what I’m sayin’? I love that for us. Everything was perfect timing. Tubi was looking for a way to expand, and they grew out of us, and when I say ‘us,’ I mean our culture.”

Wardrobe designer Daun Green was also eager to share her experiences on movie sets, her department’s challenges, and the dos and don’ts in her field. “I have one rule — everyone knows my rule — don’t eat around my clothes, don’t drink around my clothes, or smoke around my clothes, and we’re good,” she says. “In the costume department, we’re not styling you; we’re styling for your character. Your character is a psychologist or professor at a university; you’re not wearing miniskirts, jeans, or T-shirts. It has to make sense for the scene and who your character is.”

The average viewer only sees the final product on the big or small screen. However, those working in the film and entertainment industry for a while understand the complexities of making even the most minimal-budget film. Other cities have been taking notice of the formula used by Detroit-based productions. “They [Detroit] are killing it with Tubi,” says Green. “People in other cities — Chicago, Cleveland, and others — always ask [how]. A lot of them already have their shit written out because they came from plays. Production is production, so you just gotta change the format. After all, the process [to make a] stage play and a screenplay are different, which is one of the reasons people can plan so much shit out because they already had it written as a stage play.”

Nikki Miller, the script supervisor on the film, has been active in the industry since 1996, working between Detroit and Los Angeles. She says Tubi filmmakers can move more quickly than those in Hollywood. “For us, we had a movie called What’s Good, which we filmed in December [2023], and it made it on April 4 [2024]. [The director of photography] has his camera and edits it, so we don’t have to send it to an editor. Some people could take longer.” On the significance of Tubi to Detroit filmmakers, Miller says, “It’s content. They put out so much, and no one’s waiting. I live in Hollywood; there, it’s all these hurdles you have to jump over… first of all, it’s rigged; if you’re not getting to the theaters, don’t even fuck with it. Whatever is hitting the theaters next year, they know this year. There’s an actor who people are waiting for to finish their screenplay so it can be submitted to festivals. The script isn’t even done, and they’re already planning to attend festivals. There are many people out there who are just getting started. Detroit doesn’t do that. It’s like, we’re gonna do it anyway; we’ve got the script, we’ve got the cameras, we’re gonna do it anyway. They don’t sign what’s known as SAG Low Budget Agreements.”

Formed in 2012, SAG-AFTRA (Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists) is a labor union for film, television, and radio personalities. The SAG Low Budget Agreement applies to those shooting a film entirely within the United States with a budget of less than $2 million. So, in the eyes of SAG-AFTRA, production crew members who aren’t signatories to this agreement aren’t entitled to certain benefits, such as a bigger budget, more prominent named actors, better equipment, and credits that come with it. However, this is the price of speed in getting the product onto the screens.

TubiTown isn’t the first time Michigan has become known for its film industry. Circa 2008, then-Gov. Jennifer Granholm signed a law that provided tax credits to Hollywood filmmakers to film in Michigan, setting the stage to stimulate the state’s economy amid a national recession, create jobs, and establish a new industry in the Motor City. The incentive included a 40 percent refundable or transferable tax credit for producing films in Michigan, as well as a 2 percent rebate for core communities. The law also provided a 25 percent tax credit for investments in film and digital media infrastructure, including activities such as building studios or purchasing equipment. This led to films such as Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice, Transformers, Grand Torino, Kill the Irishman, Red Dawn, Conviction, and others. From 2008 to 2012, the Film Office and the Department of Treasury approved $392,384,844 in film incentives, totaling $1,003,835,842 in qualified expenditures by productions in Michigan, or 229 projects approved to date. In 2015, under Gov. Rick Snyder, the tax benefits were capped at $25 million, causing filmmakers to seek other states for more lucrative tax benefits and causing the film industry in Michigan to come to a standstill. While Tubi seems to be the primary outlet for independent filmmakers to reach a broad audience, some who started on Tubi have since been acquired by other platforms. Lisa Brown, creator of The Dirty D, has her show available to stream on Peacock. Three seasons are currently streaming on the platform; the show first premiered on Tubi on May 3, 2022, and has since garnered a fanbase that has grown seemingly as quickly as the platform itself. (According to Nielsen ratings in March of 2024, Tubi grew its profit share of the U.S. total viewing time by 60%. In 2025, Tubi reached 100 million monthly active users and was ranked 33rd in Fast Company’s “The World’s 50 Most Innovative Companies of 2025.”) Mann Robinson is a Detroit native who followed a similar route to Tyler Perry’s, creating his production facility in Atlanta in 2021. Since then, the studio has partnered with various platforms, organizations, and celebrities. 

Beasy Jones, the director of Play the Field, has directed over 40 movies and TV shows, including Untangled, Family Code, Cons and Cougars, Scripts,and Pillow Talk, among others. “I used to make beats, being a producer of that nature,” he says. “And, you know, I felt like I needed to make a name for myself when I was doing that. But it was such a saturated market; music is one of those things that’s a gift and a curse. I wanted to be like Helluva, but be like Helluva in my own way. I started taking to the film side, so I started off shooting music videos. We had a company called TandB Films, and we literally shot every local popular rapper at that time; we were the ones they came to. When I say we became an overnight success, that’s no cap.” 

He adds, “When I created music videos, I created them in a cinematic style, so it was like I was destined to get into film.” 

Jones says working with small, scrappy crews can be challenging. “When you’re doing independent work, you’re the man of many hats,” he says. “You have so many things to do because the budget is very small on a lot of these projects. Basically, being able to troubleshoot is the biggest challenge. If you don’t have the resources, if you’re not a people person, and you can’t troubleshoot, that’s where you’re going to fall apart.” 

And regarding Detroit being called “TubiTown” and the impact that it’s had on the voice of independent filmmakers: “It’s opened up the doors,” Jones says. “The world knows Detroit, not just from music. When people call it TubiTown, I find it very funny; you know, when people say, ‘Y’all make Tubi movies,’ And I’m like, ‘We’re just people from Detroit that make movies that happen to go on Tubi.’”

He adds, “They love us, though. Every city or state is reaching out to us, bringing our actors, talent, producers, and cinematographers to other cities. They’re booking us because they want what Detroit has.” 

Tory Monay, who plays Sheila in Play the Field, has a stacked IMDB page with credits to more than 20 movies and TV shows to her name. Like many actors in the community, she began her career on the stage in plays. “When I got in the game, it was all about stage plays,” she says. “Many people were putting on plays. In 2017, I made my first movie, and at that time, there were probably two or three other filmmakers. So, from 2017 to now, it’s like every one or two people are making some sort of film. It’s amazing just to see the growth, and it’s fun; we all can lean on each other. I think it’s super dope, and I’m excited to see how we elevate. It’s cool when I’m out of town, traveling from state to state. Everybody just knows and respects what we’re doing here. Everybody was a piece of this pie in some way. They’re trying to come here, cast our actors, use our production team; in some form or fashion, [other cities] are trying to connect their production to this city… We did that!” Play the Field premiered on July 19 at the Bel Air Luxury Cinema in Detroit. 

I took a few days off after this interview due to illness; however, I spent my time watching many indie television shows and movies on Tubi. Given the context, I know from observing how production works on one of these films that I can understand why people are so drawn to them. The representation of the city, as this platform opens up a door for aspiring actors and provides the viewer with a familiar portrayal of the town, is commendable.

While working on this piece, I was recommended a film titled My Man My Man My Man, which was released on Aug. 1. The film follows Pandora (played by Davida Reed), a spiritually conflicted character in three separate relationships with Miles ( Jonathan Barker), Jax (Roland “Ro Spit” Coit), and Havoc (DeJuan Ford). After the passing of one of the love interests, you see the story start to unfold, and Pandora’s life begins to unravel in a film full of twists, drama, and karma. (The film’s tagline: “She played with hearts, but karma doesn’t fold.”) As of Sept. 23, the movie is the No. 1 most popular movie on Tubi. The film is directed, produced, scripted, and stars Dakei Harvey (who plays the role of Braden); executive produced by Ty Haygood, Malik, and Richard Hairston; and shot by TyJuan Miller.

“I think people actually have to give these films a chance,” says Hairston, who wrote the story. “When I was younger, I used to watch movies such as The Brothers, and I would consider them low-budget films. I would look at the more blockbuster films with white actors; these are the bigger movies, this is what we need to do, but I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand that we had to make our own films, we had to produce our own budgets. I didn’t understand that we weren’t playing on the same field. I didn’t understand that at my younger age. As I got older, I started to appreciate that content; those movies that I’m speaking of, they’re all classics to me; we want to see us, we want to see us in roles that resonate, that are familiar to us.” 

Hairston adds, “My opinion is Detroit runs the Tubi world. A bold statement, but people come from all over the world to audition for these roles in Detroit. Other states are doing great, but in Detroit, the actors, directors, I don’t think many people would argue that Detroit is at the top of the game, there’s a real movement going on here, and everyone is noticing.” 

“A lot of the time, people hear Blaxploitation of the ’60s and ’70s and take it as a negative,” says Ro Spit. “It’s all about context. When you think about these Black actors, producers, and directors, they were unable to tell their story. Even if the big Hollywood productions would allow them to be a part of it, they were still pigeonholed into what others wanted them to do. The people who genuinely know about Blaxploitation realize the independence and the power it brings together. The ability to create a platform and tell your story to your culture, and allow others to view it and appreciate it.”

Detroit’s influence in the independent film space on Tubi is unparalleled, whether we’re talking about stories of redemption like Phil in Play the Field or karma coming back around like Pandora in My Man My Man My Man. Comedies, horror, or any genre, the outlet gives people in the indie scene a voice that may otherwise be silenced. There are, of course, people in it solely for the gains and to capitalize on viral movements by purposely making the product look bad; however, the majority seem to care about the craft of filmmaking and controlling their own narrative. The independence, DIY spirit, and grit that go into it are qualities that can only be bred in the city of Detroit.

This article appears in Oct 1-14, 2025.

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