"A furious black man was telling me that the film reminded him of D W Griffith's Birth of a Nation and then another said that it was the most racist film in the history of the BBC!"

It was like a scene from the film itself. The BBC had just previewed my film, Shoot the Messenger, to a selected audience at a London venue. A furious black man was telling me that the film reminded him of D W Griffith's Birth of a Nation and then another said that it was the most racist film in the history of the BBC! A famous female DJ was shouting across the audience at him that he was a professional complainer. Sides were drawn; haters of the film versus lovers. It was pandemonium. I loved it. At one point I even clapped. For me it was an authentication of what I had written. It was like real life following drama.

The déjà vu continued when I woke the next day to find an article in the Evening Standard with the headline "BBC Accused of Blatant Racism" and then, just as happens to Joe (the main character in the film) I found myself doing a radio show to defend myself.

I knew I was sailing close to wind when I pitched the film to the Dennis Potter Award judges in 2003. We in the black community often have conversations (not within the hearing of other races) about what we call "The trouble with black people." We talk about the crime, people marrying outside of the race, how other races are doing better than us etc, etc, etc. My wanting to look at it was not new. Spike Lee had covered elements of it in all of his films, but it was the main topic of his film, School Daze. American comedian Chris Rock (co-creator of Everybody Hates Chris and regular host of the Oscars) does a hilarious skit on the difference between 'blacks and niggers'.

"Although negative things are said - things that I and a number of people I know have experienced - many positive things are also in evidence."

I told the Dennis Potter judges that I wanted to look at what I considered to be the propensity for blaming in the black community and the difficulty with taking responsibility. I described it as a morality tale reminiscent of the film Alfie. Thus, Joe (David Oyelowo) journeys through a series of vignettes, each of which is designed to reflect in some way a particular aspect of the black community. As it's essentially looking at what I believe isn't working in the black community there was always the danger that it would come across as an 'unremittingly negative portrayal' as a woman said at the aforementioned London screening. But I had written the film so that, although Joe is saying and seeing lots of negative things about black people, he is also rescued and restored to health by black people. I hoped people would realise that, although negative things are said - things that I and a number of people I know have experienced - many positive things are also in evidence.

In the previous six screenings of the film, people got it. Although made for BBC TWO on HD, we entered it for the Tribeca Film Festival. It was accepted and put in competition. One of the Tribeca jurors, Melvin Van Peebles (often called the godfather of black film having begun the 60s blaxploitation era with his film Sweet Sweetback Badass Song) wrote of Shoot The Messenger, "This film is about us and for us. You gotta see it. Take a peek inside yourself."

We had four screenings at Tribeca. Our first screening was a sell-out and by the last one we had queues around the block and had to turn people away. So what was different about the London screening? I think it had something to do with the fact the previous audiences didn't have any expectations so they just experienced it. It was difficult to watch, but they hung in there and got it in the end. This time, the audience was made up of media professionals and community leaders and I believe it was difficult for some of the black members of the audience to have the underbelly of our own community exposed on a cinema screen, with their fellow white professionals present. Several people said it was hard to watch. I knew it would be because it was incredibly hard to write.

"This film is intended to be a healing experience. To look at what we do, to acknowledge it and move on. I do believe we have a difficulty with taking responsibility."

I sat in my house one night, literally petrified. I couldn't move. Black people were going to hate the film and me for airing our dirty laundry. So what kept me going? I asked myself if I was about being loved or about being loving? Because for me writing this film was an act of love. I honestly think the strategy that many black people have had in place since the end of slavery - which I see as "deny, deny, deny, blame, blame, blame" - is killing our community. This film is intended to be a healing experience. To look at what we do, to acknowledge it and move on.

The fact that the film is out there, got into Tribeca, has been shown at Edinburgh, has been loved by the vast majority of those who have seen it, indicates to me that perhaps we're at the dawn of a new day.