Race relations: Sign of progress in ‘Precious’

Set in the crack-filled Harlem of the mid-1980s, “Precious’’ would have been received quite differently if it had been released at that time. Then, it would have been denounced as Reaganite propaganda. But this movie by a black director, based on a novel by a black writer, and featuring a cast including some leading black celebrities, is more obviously an artifact of the Obama era.

Back in the ’80s, films about blacks tended to be viewed as statements about race relations, fodder for an ongoing debate about America’s struggles to accommodate its own diversity. Even “Precious,’’ with relatively few white characters, would have been seen through the prism of white racism and a nearly impregnable white power structure. Its unflattering depiction of a welfare mother would have been perceived by most blacks and white liberals as a stereotype that served to desensitize people to the real concerns of the black underclass.

“Precious’’ may carry a sobering message, but it’s a sign of progress. The white power structure is no longer impregnable, and the only complaints of bias triggered by the release of were about class - privileged filmmakers offering up a merciless portrait of a mother in poverty.

Yet there were noble intentions behind it. In the Obama era, many high-achieving minorities are confronting race and poverty with fresh eyes. Having seen the mountaintop themselves, they yearn to help the deserving poor find their own way up the ladder.

As for the undeserving poor, this movie has no truck for hiding one’s inadequacies behind false claims of racism. It speaks in the authoritative voice of the new black meritocracy, declaring that racism and poverty aren’t excuses for bad behavior.

The black helpers who come to the girl’s aid are living lives that are indistinguishable from those of white counterparts. Many are played by celebrities, including singers Lenny Kravitz (as a nurse) and Mariah Carey (as a counselor). A school staff member is played by Sherri Shepherd of “The View.’’

The presence of these celebs, along with Oprah Winfrey and Tyler Perry on the credits, raises the subliminal suggestion that the film is a message from the black talk-show aristocracy. Carey, Kravitz, and Shepherd play variants on the same character: An earnest, socially conscious professional or para-professional who is shocked by the horrors faced by Precious.

There’s one more celebrity in the cast, but she plays a very different part. Mo’Nique, a comic who has a talk show on BET, holds forth as the abusive mother, and she’s a powerhouse. She burns through the morality-play blandness of the plot.

Mo’Nique certainly does humanize the gorgon Mary Jones, but in a way that defies sympathy rather than earns it. She derides all her daughter’s efforts to improve herself as acting white. It’s just one of the many reflexive lies that keep Mary going: She’s turned the culture of dependency into a cult of self.

Mary keeps her nest without working or attempting work. Her welfare depends on having Precious under her roof, along with Precious’s mentally challenged baby. The baby, whom Mary ridicules, doesn’t live there. Mary’s own mother cares for the girl elsewhere, but brings her back whenever Mary has a visit from her caseworker.

No one could excuse Mary’s behavior, and no one does. What’s noteworthy, of course, is that a film with so many high-powered blacks on either side of the camera would feature such a character. Surely they don’t mean to cast all welfare mothers as Marys, but they clearly do intend to say that not all welfare mothers are victims, and not all claims of victimhood are valid.

The dramatic crux of “Precious’’ comes when Mary explains why she allowed her boyfriend to rape her daughter, and tries to cast herself as a figure of sympathy. Carey, as the counselor, straightens her arms and refuses to touch her. No excuses. Not anymore.

Peter S. Canellos is editorial page editor of the Globe.