Malika James, Hollywood make up artist talks systemic racism in the industry, past and present

Malika James is a bicoastal makeup artist and a member of both Makeup and Hair stylist guild local 706 and local 798. She’s worked with stars like Gabrielle Union, Danai Gurira, Keke Palmer, and T.I. Her credits include “Grownish,” “America’s Got Talent,” “LA’s Finest,” “The Voice: Australia” and “The Walking Dead.”

“Hell, no.”

That was my reaction when a friend asked me to write about my experience in the film and television industry as a Black makeup artist over the past 15 years. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to properly get out all that I had been feeling.

So I went on about my life, or at least I tried. But everywhere I looked, I saw something else that stopped me in my tracks and brought me to tears. I realized wasn’t alone. I found myself listening to or taking part in conversations about race that were happening all around the country. And the more I thought about my journey with racism in this business, the more I realized I needed to get out my truth, in hopes of joining another much-needed conversation.

Before I could pursue makeup as a profession, I promised my family that I would go to college.  In 2005 I graduated from The University of Alabama. What most people know about the University of Alabama is their football team. What people don’t know is UA has a history of being one of the most racist and segregated universities in the American south. I left with a degree, and also a crash course in systemic racism.

Shortly after college I joined the International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees Local 798, with a dream to join local 706, which serves as the West Coast Make-up Artist & Hair Stylist Guild. These affiliations are crucial to land top jobs. In my career I’ve worked across all content mediums. I’ve been listed as every title on the call sheet: additional makeup artist, third, key, department head and personal (which means you’re requested by star talent).

On one of my first jobs, I was the only person of color on the set. I was having a ball working with over 300 background artists. An actor I had worked with previously spotted me on set. He walked up to me and asked for my help correcting his makeup, because it was far off from his skin tone. I immediately told him that the conversation alone could get me fired. I explained I was there for the background actors only. He understood and walked off. Hours later, I was fired and told “just because you’re black doesn’t mean you get to work with the black star.” I couldn’t tell if my supervisor was trying to convince herself or me. Regardless, I said “okay”, and didn’t attempt to explain. However, before I left, the department head asked me to fix the actor’s makeup. I fixed it, pack my bags and moved on.

A day later, the cinematographer noticed the visual inconsistency in the star’s skin tone from watching the dailies, so I was rehired by production and brought on as a personal to the star. Try to imagine the tension on that trailer when the person who fired me had to see me daily. It was this incident that let me know in order to stay in this business, I would have to dance to a beat that was constantly changing. The micro aggressions, the toxic work environments, and the unspoken “you’re not supposed to be here” attitude.

In 2017, another actor was starring in a movie and requested me. I was told by union leadership that before being allowed on set, I had to provide 3 years worth of call sheets proving I worked with this star. I was also told that my name on every call sheet had to be specific, that my title had to read “personal makeup,” or I would not be eligible for membership. Some of the requirements were emailed to the producer, who would send them to me. And some were told to me during phone calls. Needless to say, it was a lot of back and forth.

After I finally collected the mandatory call sheets, I was told it was to prove history with the star and to avoid the issues that come with “on the job training.” And that made perfect sense to me. Five months after the movie wrapped, I was told to come in for an interview to discuss my possible membership. I say all this because, two years after joining the union, I came across a white artist who was in my exact same position. Only she didn’t have to jump through any of the hoops I did… she was just let in the union. I know this, because she told me. And even then, I still couldn’t believe it. I know so many other talented artists that have been denied for years and this woman just walked right in. Do you know I even called the union to confirm her membership? I had to know I wasn’t crazy. But it was true. She was Local 706. And as I began to navigate Hollywood, it was starting to feel more like the Jim Crow South, only west of Glendale.

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