With friends like that, black actresses don't need enemies. What they do need, as Shepherd noted, are not necessarily better parts for black women but writers, casting agents, directors and producers who recognize that a range of actresses (regardless of race) could play most parts.
But they also need those power players to pay attention to the roles black actresses have already played and to think of new ways to put them to work. Since the '70s there have been too many such women who have proven their talent only to disappear, almost literally, into the ether. Actresses like Cicely Tyson ("Sounder") and Lonette McKee ("Sparkle") never had the careers they deserved. Their history kept repeating itself, with a succession of other actresses in the starring role, straight through the 1990s. Bassett's portrayal of Tina Turner in the 1992 "What's Love Got to Do with It" was one of the toughest and finest performances I saw by an actress in the '90s. Although Bassett was nominated for an Academy Award (she lost to Holly Hunter for that actress's one-note performance in "The Piano"), has acted regularly in the movies since then (most notably in "How Stella Got Her Groove Back") and is uniformly terrific no matter what the role, she hasn't landed nearly as many major parts as she deserves. She's an actress on par with, say, Jessica Lange; but she never became the star that Lange was at her peak, nor has she earned as much critical attention.
Bassett is the most significant example of a great actress who's been hurt by the color barrier. But if you consider that the movies have room for all kinds of white actresses -- not just Jessica Lange and Sissy Spacek and Michelle Pfeiffer, but also Julia Roberts and Meg Ryan -- then why are there so few berths for black actresses? Regina King has superb comic timing, and she's been wonderful in pictures like "Jerry Maguire," "How Stella Got Her Groove Back" and "Down to Earth." Newton brought as much depth and resonance to the throwaway "M:I-2" as she did to Bernardo Bertolucci's "Besieged." (Luckily, Jonathan Demme has cast her against Mark Wahlberg in his upcoming remake of "Charade.")
Berry is a fine actress who may do better work yet if she hooks up with directors who know how to use understatement to shape a role: Her big scenes in both "Monster's Ball" and "Introducing Dorothy Dandridge" are the weakest and most forced; but when she tosses it all off casually, she's terrific. Most people remember her in the stinker "Swordfish" for her big topless scene; what I remember even more than those exquisite breasts is the way she brazenly (and, I think, knowingly) undercut the gratuitousness of that scene. The look on her face as Dominic Sena's camera lingers on her is a blasi but sexy challenge; it says "Go ahead and look, if that's all you're interested in." (It's also an object lesson in what moviegoers miss when they don't bother to read an actor's expression.)
And what about the actresses who may not have the chops to carry off big, serious roles but whose good looks and charm might carry them a long way with movie audiences? In terms of raw talent, I wouldn't put Vivica A. Fox ("Soul Food," "Two Can Play That Game") or Gabrielle Union ("Bring It On," "Two Can Play That Game") in the same league as Bassett or Berry. But they're beautiful women who, at the very least, have a flirty, vivacious appeal.
And then there are actresses who are too talented for their own good -- or, more specifically, who are too good at things Hollywood just doesn't care about. Vanessa L. Williams is probably still most famous for being a dethroned Miss America (for many of us, that was the thing that actually made her cooler). She's been a sparkling presence in pictures like "Eraser" (opposite Arnold Schwarzenegger) and "Dance With Me." Even in smaller roles, she's a smart, sensitive presence; she should have been poised to get better and better as an actress -- if the roles had been there. What's more, Williams looks sensational, with her apple cheekbones and ice-blue eyes, and can sing and dance to boot. (She's about to open in the Broadway revival of Stephen Sondheim's "Into the Woods.") Hollywood has no use for that kind of multifaceted talent; if only that mad genius Baz Luhrmann, one of the few working directors with the guts to attempt musicals, would dream up something for her to do.