Fences.

Review #1647: Fences.

Cast: 

Denzel Washington (Troy Maxson), Viola Davis (Rose Lee Maxson), Stephen McKinley Henderson (Jim Bono), Jovan Adepo (Cory Maxson), Russell Hornsby (Lyons Maxson), Mykelti Williamson (Gabriel Maxson), and Saniyya Sidney (Raynell Maxson) Directed by Denzel Washington.

Review: 

"The star of the movie is the screenplay and August Wilson's words. What Denzel said to me, to Scott, to all the actors, the cinematographer, and the production designer was, 'Don't make any decision without August Wilson's words leading you to make that decision.' Whatever you do, let the words inform your decision first. That's what we all had to abide by."

If the right person is found, the right result will be found for the material to show to the screen. The source material for the film was the play of the same name, which was first developed on the stage in 1983. Written by playwright August Wilson, it was the sixth play done by him in what is now considered part of the "Pittsburgh Cycle", with each play taking place in a different decade of the 20th century. The city native wrote ten plays that all dealt with the African American experience within his city (although one was actually set in Chicago); this and Ma Rainey's Black Bottom (1985) were his first triumphs with audiences, and Wilson would win a Pulitzer Prize for Drama and a Tony Award for Best Play upon Fences' premiere on Broadway in 1987. When asked about the idea of turning Fences into a film, he wanted an African American director, or more specifically, one who would in his eyes be a director that "shares the specifics of the culture of black Americans." Despite Paramount Pictures buying the rights to make a film in 1987, the idea stalled for years, despite Wilson having wrote a screenplay for it before his death in 2005. When there was time at last do make a film, the script was generally kept intact, although there were a few uncredited rewrites done by Washington, Tony Kushner, and Spike Lee in pre-production. In the director's chair was actor/director Washington, who had added directing into his repertoire with Antwone Fisher (2002) and The Great Debaters (2007), and he also served as a co-producer on this feature. The film retains the main duo from the 2010 revival on Broadway with Washington and Davis, who toured for a limited run of 13 weeks and each had been awarded Tony Awards for their performances; Henderson, Hornsby, and Williamson also reprised their roles from the 2010 stage show.

What we have here is a film ripe for great actors to pair with each other that could prove mesmerizing and poetic in the right hands. I'm sure Wilson would have been quite proud of the result in turning his play into a film, as it manages to be quite an entertaining time, one shot right in the setting of the Hill District in Pittsburgh. The film moves with timing of a poet that manages to seem right at home within a film that drives its strength from two actors in their prime that makes one almost seem right there at a distance to hear their cadence come out with clarity in a family drama that generally hits the mark for what it wants to say regarding its time and place (in this case, the 1950s). No matter how much one tries or doesn't try, the folks that raise us a child are always going to be a part of us, flaws or not, where duty matters more so than just having someone liking you for the sake of it. Of course there is also the idea of what a fence means, both literally and in metaphor. In an era of films that seem to bill themselves on trying to out explode the other or try to hit marks on quieter stream services, it is nice to have a film that wants to reach its own depth of interest in terms of meaningful drama that does not come off as too fenced off for interest. Washington and Davis are our main focus, and while each received buzz for their performances, the latter was generally felt to be a supporting presence. To level it as tha is to forget the fact that each compliment the other in their own ways, where one doesn't seem to be lacking the other or feel that they are watching a director-actor's show. Washington does quite well with such an imposing role, one wrapped with plenty of the human element of what makes a father from Wilson's perspective with reasoned edge and tough interest. He makes his dealings with no overblown moments of playing to the rafters that obviously excelled from the performances done in the theater. In that mindset, Davis (who had starred in Washington's first directorial effort but best known for her star role on How to Get Away with Murder) follows with a resourceful touch, one that stands with Washington and brings everyone together with grace and stature to drive the drama just as well as Washington. Each have their moments when paired with Adepo in regards to the nature of parental influence, whether that means devotion or something else, and that is made pretty clear with Davis' scene near the end when talking about what one person meant to her and her son in terms of legacy (the scene Davis and Washington share in a pivotal moment about secrets is a close second). Adepo manages to do his best when faced with acting with either of them with reasoned care. Henderson accompanies the proceedings at times with a bit of charm and advice that goes along fairly well. Hornsby and Williamson close out as the primary support with well-done touch (mostly for the latter). All in all, what we have is a captivating family drama that captures the essence of a time, place, and upbringing that resonates with the viewer through its main two performances with flourish that hits most of its marks for 139 minutes for a solid accomplishment of turning a stage classic into a film.

Well, I hope you folks enjoyed this month and what it tried to cover with Black History Month. Perhaps it will be done again next year, but I assure you that there will be some surprises ahead in 2021 for Movie Night that I hope you enjoy. Any suggestions you have are always appreciated; thank you and have a good night...

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Selma.

Review #1646: Selma.

Cast: 
David Oyelowo (Martin Luther King, Jr), Tom Wilkinson (Lyndon B. Johnson), Carmen Ejogo (Coretta Scott King), André Holland (Andrew Young), Tessa Thompson (Diane Nash), Giovanni Ribisi (Lee C. White), Lorraine Toussaint (Amelia Boynton Robinson), Stephan James (John Lewis), Wendell Pierce (Hosea Williams), Common (James Bevel), Alessandro Nivola (John Doar), Lakeith Stanfield (Jimmie Lee Jackson), Cuba Gooding Jr. (Fred Gray), Dylan Baker (J. Edgar Hoover), Tim Roth (George Wallace), Oprah Winfrey (Annie Lee Cooper), Ruben Santiago-Hudson (Bayard Rustin), Niecy Nash (Richie Jean Jackson), Colman Domingo (Ralph Abernathy), Omar Dorsey (James Orange), Ledisi Young (Mahalia Jackson), and Trai Byers (James Forman) Directed by Ava DuVernay.

Review: 
"You know, the thing that I was really interested in doing with the film is making King more than a catch phrase, more than a holiday, more than a street name in a black neighborhood, more than a stamp, more than one speech. I mean, I wanted him to be a man, a living, breathing man."

It's interesting to find a new voice for film, particularly when it comes to ones that took their time to march forward with their own stories to tell. Ava DuVernay grew up in California, but during her summer vacations, she would travel down to her father's childhood home in Alabama, near the city of Selma. The experiences spent with her father, who had seen the marches from Selma to Montgomery in 1965, would prove a lasting influence. She studied at the University of California, Los Angeles in English literature and African-American studies, but her first career interest was in journalism. It was not long before she shifted into public relations, for which she would work in for a few years. She made her first venture into film with a 2005 short (Saturday Night Life) before making her first documentary with This Is the Life (2008) and her first theatrical effort with I Will Follow (2010). The film was written originally by Paul Webb, although DuVernay would do uncredited re-writes during production. The original director in mind was Lee Daniels, with Oyelowo (who starred in DuVernay's second film, Middle of Nowhere) having to lobby for years to be considered as star, with intentions of casting Liam Neeson and Robert De Niro as Johnson and Wallace before DuVernay came in.

At any rate, what we have here is a fairly stirring film. It runs on the energy to stir emotion about a story it wants to tell involving a march for freedom that came not from one man but from many that came from various backgrounds with their own parts to play. It is pressure that matters most here, one that shows the drive for the vote as a collective. It is the fury of being counted after years of being stepped on that viewers will likely see through the lens of the present alongside the past, where literacy tests fading away don't mean an easy aftermath. If the accuracy is to be debated, at least one can't say the film doesn't have the vision to look like a crisp period piece, right down to shooting on the Edmund Pettus Bridge. Oyelowo manages to step forward and does well with strength for a tough task at hand with making King out to be more than just an icon heard on old tapes. He carries the film along with calm measured patience, one who we can see as the main face of a movement with no long doubt or thinking of him as just the entire landscape. In other words, what we have is someone with aspirations to go with flaws just like someone you would know without being relegated to biopic sticking points. Wilkinson does just as well on the other side of the film's line of focus, having his own presence of immeasurability, one that mixes with Oyelowo in the struggle for the right to have others be heard going through the game of policy. Ejogo goes well for her part in soothing measurability in time usually spent paired with Oyelowo, a pillar of strength in her own ways that fits well for the first portrayal of C. King on film (Ejogo had played the role 13 years prior in a production for HBO in Boycott, which dealt with the Montgomery bus boycott). Others stick out in their own ways, such as a persevering Holland or with James. Appearances by Stanfield and Roth stay with the viewer after they leave the screen, for varying reasons.

The strange thing that arises from the dialogue might be the fact that I did not realize that King's speeches were actually under copyright, for which that meant the script had to dance around that with re-spinning of dialogue (Dreamworks and Warner Bros at the time had been given a license for those speeches for a biopic...in 2009, and a decade has passed with no biopic). As one might expect from a historical film, there was a bit of wringing with some of its aspects in depicting certain moments, with the debate being discussed probably just as much as the lack of award nominations for the film as a whole. With a moment like Selma that still had some of the players (both in the march and less connected) still alive, this is particularly interesting, such as the statement from Andrew Young, who stated that most of the film was true while having quibbles with the portrayal of the relationship between Johnson and King. Consider the statement made by DuVernay, who felt that she is a storyteller, not a historian when it comes to a film that isn't a documentary. Honestly, sometimes a film can still be great even if it isn't 100% to the point, such as the case with Malcolm X (1992), which had its own omissions and composites within artistic license (Lee's vision of Malcolm X might as well correspond to a statement DuVernay made involving history being interpreted though the lens of one who reads or experiences it). Quibbles over the portrayal of civil rights moments is nothing new, as noted with films such as Mississippi Burning (1988), for example. But hey, does it count for the film if it speaks to things about King's life that I didn't know beforehand (such as Mahalia Jackson being called by him to sing to him)? Maybe it is an indictment of what we know and don't know from studies in school when it comes to folks like James Reeb or with Jimmie Lee Jackson. There may be many Bloody Sundays, but that doesn't mean it is easily forgotten, particularly when it is one that can be seen on your screen with your own eyes. In that sense, the film does fairly well for itself in generating tension and deep curiosity for the events of 1965 in what happened then and what has happened since then, one that organizes itself with flourish in 128 minutes of events and pace that mostly hits the mark. It isn't a perfect film, but it still manages to do well enough for itself in gripping entertainment to pull a punch where it is still needed now.

Next Time: Closing time comes for Black History Month on the movie side, for which we end with Fences.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Men of Honor.

Review #1645: Men of Honor.

Cast: 

Robert De Niro (Master Chief Leslie 'Billy' Sunday), Cuba Gooding Jr (Boatswain's Mate Second Class Carl Brashear), Charlize Theron (Gwen Sunday), Aunjanue Ellis (Jo Brashear), Hal Holbrook (Mr. Pappy), Michael Rapaport (Gunners Mate Snowhill), Powers Boothe (Captain Pullman), David Keith (Captain Hartigan), Holt McCallany (Machinist's Mate First Class Dylan Rourke), and David Conrad (Captain Hanks) Directed by George Tillman Jr.

Review: 

"I realized that some of these aspects related to my path as a filmmaker. And I believe audiences will find a part of themselves in Carl - the best part of themselves - perhaps the part they haven't used lately."

George Tillman Jr wanted to make movies from a young age. The Milwaukee native was shooting things he saw with a 8mm camera he borrowed from his father as a child, but it was the viewing of films such as Five on the Black Hand Side (1973), Claudine (1974), and Cooley High (1975) that inspired him to enter the world of filmmaking. He studied film and video at Columbia College in Chicago before moving into a partnership with a fellow classmate with Robert Teitel in Menagerie Films, a directing and producing partnership. Through years of rising from production assistant to writing/directing his own script, Soul Food (1997) became a hit. Tillman has so far directed seven theatrical films while also serving as a producer on a variety of films, and this is his second overall film, for which he was attracted to the story of Carl Brashear. The son of a sharecropper that did not graduate high school, he was the first African-American graduate of the United States Navy Diving & Salvage School, having done so in 1954 after enlisting in the Navy six years prior. Sixteen years later, having overcome an accident that lost him a leg to be recertified as a diver, he became a U.S. Navy master diver. The path to making a film of Brashear started in 1980 (right after retiring from service) that bounced around from contract deals to a script in 1994 for Paramount Pictures that stalled until it went into the hands of Teitel and Tillman Jr. Budget haggling was a step to overcome alongside getting actors to appear, so here we are with a $32 million film with two Academy Award winners for stars.

There is likely a good reason that this film stood on my shelf for over a decade, because I do know my dad favored certain films that involved the military in some way or just had a good story to tell. Somewhere, in that mindset of 129 minutes spent with this film, is a struggle for something better than average when it comes to a biopic that has an interesting juggling act between its stars. On the one hand, it does manage to accomplish one basic fact: It tells the story of a man who persisted onto his goal no matter what challenge came his way (whether prejudice or one good leg), and it does so with just enough interest to hear more about the story that will likely be enough to overcome its shortcomings for those who are interested in what it wants to say. The sticking point one might have is the very fact that it is a modestly average affair all the way around when it comes to being a conventional biopic, one that just manages to not diffuse itself in tension only because the main two actors do fine enough with the material while the action in the water is at least somewhat interesting to sit through. It is as if someone wanted to make a 50s style drama biopic, one with challenges to overcome while other folks dote on them. In that sense, De Niro does just fine with what he is given, trying to toe the line between hard-driving mentor and maniac without playing to the angle of biopic scene-chewing camp. Granted, it is an angle that can only go so far in middling depth, but De Niro at least seems game for doing it straight rather than playing it off for an unintentional laugh. Gooding Jr (who found himself playing quite a few historical figures in the next few years) does well enough in his own distinct path in playing off courage and interest in the main subject without becoming just a man in a suit, one that has to deal with underwater action with patience alongside other moments that he is fairly up to task for. Theron and Ellis compliment the two in the moments away from the water with adequate results. Honestly, one wonders if there was more of the eccentric Holbrook left on the cutting floor, one who has exactly one scene of focus involving his eccentricities (alongside racism). Rapaport is there for basically three scenes as a counterpart for Gooding Jr that comes and goes.

Of course there are a few embellishments from history to fiction, and at least the film had the participation of the Navy. One particular name comes up with Alberto José do Nascimento, a Brazilian diver who was the only one to support Brashear, complete with being the only one to bunk with him (as opposed to the stutterer played by Rapaport). Of course, De Niro is playing a composite character of people that Brashear dealt with, and the whole episode involving a bar dispute settled with submerging one's head in water apparently didn't happen either. As for the amputation...well it wasn't because he wanted to go right back to the Navy but with a prosthetic - he was plagued by necrosis and infection (with a possibility of keeping the leg, but with a brace, not a cane). At any rate, it is a film of process for diving rather than big moments, building to its rise and fight again type of mantra with reasonable finish. Is it great? Not by any means, but it gets the job done in portraying a useful moment in history with a reasoned cast and director to reach the levels it wants without sinking, and that should be more than enough in the end.

Next Time: Closing time hits soon, but it's time for Selma.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Once Upon a Time...When We Were Colored.

Review #1644: Once Upon a Time...When We Were Colored.

Cast: 
Al Freeman Jr (Poppa), Phylicia Rashad (Ma Ponk), Leon (Uncle Melvin), Paula Kelly (Ma Pearl), Charles Earl Taylor Jr. (Cliff, age 5), Salli Richardson (Miss Alice), Anna Maria Horsford (Miss Annie), Bernie Casey (Mr. Walter), Isaac Hayes (Preacher Hurn), Willie Norwood Jr (Cliff, age 12), Karen Malina White (Mary), Damon Hines (Cliff, age 16), Taj Mahal (Mr. Will), Iona Morris (Nila Fontaine), Phill Lewis (Sammy / Narrator), Polly Bergen (Miss Maybry), and Richard Roundtree (Cleve) Produced and Directed by Tim Reid.

Review: 
People can make their name anywhere in the industry of entertainment, and they can certainly try to branch out to other fields when it means getting a story told to wider audiences. Virginia native Tim Reid had set up for wanting to get into show business despite having studied business and marketing at Norfolk State University. In 1968, he started working at DuPont in marketing, but it was also the year that he met a salesman in Tom Dreesen. At the same time, Reid worked the marketing job while also developing a comedy act with Dreesen, and the comedy act (named Tim & Tom) was the first biracial comedy duo. The duo struggled for five years on the nightclub act before breaking up, but Reid would eventually find a chance with television, with his first regular role coming in 1978 with WKRP in Cincinnati. Roles in shows such as Simon & Simon and Sister, Sister followed alongside developing his own production company and writing/directing for television. This was the first film that Reid would direct, and it was an adaptation of Clifton L. Taulbert's 1989 novel of the same name, which was his memoirs about his experiences growing up in the Mississippi Delta as a youth in the 1950s (Taulbert is known for his consultant work, and he would also cite his experiences for a book involving lessons learned from the "porch wisdom" of his community). This is to date the only mainstream film that Reid has directed, as his next two efforts with Asunder (1999) and For Real (2003) were mostly constrained to festival and video showings (as compared to this film, which had funding from Black Entertainment Television (BET).

What we have is a film for the small-town folks at heart in a time where kinship and community had to deal with prejudice and intolerance as a youth grows up to be shaped by what he sees and hears before having to make a choice for himself on what to do with that in mind. There is plenty to look at when it comes to its attempts at a period drama that involve dozens of speaking parts and episodic movement that goes with a warm attempt at reaching audience that certainly has a big heart to its craftsmanship. Whether that ends up working enough to justify its 115 minute run-time is up to the viewer, particularly if they are curious for a film that is looking for calm within tension in a small town that might seem right for a project on television or presented to an audience for educational purposes (when comparing it to fellow rural period piece in The Color Purple, this is more tame). For a first-time director, it is an okay effort, one that shows promise for what it shows in the margins in terms of warmth within a troubling time, but it seems a bit too loose near its end to make its lasting point (at least in narration) sing its high notes with clarity. In short, where one thinks the tense moments will arise for its climax seems to only seep in like a half-grown flower rather than one in full bloom, one with a few punches to land when it comes to clean-cut memory weaving. Admittedly, it is the story revolving around the townsfolk that may prove the more endearing more so than the trio of actors playing the youthful focus. Freeman, an actor near the end of a four decade career with focus on television (such as One Life to Live), reins interest in terms of dignified timing, one that is interesting to view with the young folks around him with something useful to say or to view, which is made clear in one sequence involving him teaching his youthful relative about adapting to the times in reading certain prejudicial signs (like how to spell colored) or a tense parade involving the Klan. Rashad (making her film debut after first breaking into acting through the stage) does just as well, warm but aware of the surroundings that makes one seem right at home with its sprinkle of coming-of-age trimmings. The three actors for Cliff do okay, mostly because one will eventually settle into its groove involving family life even with adversity (that, or find something that doesn't seem as much like a Hallmark greeting card) and a decent enough kid to grow into it. Honestly, it's the folks around him that would probably be more interesting to follow, such as a sometimes-used Casey or Hayes, or more specifically with the confident Roundtree. By the time it ends, you'll find yourself with a little bit of a smile, even if you would have hoped for something a bit more in its actual movements, where its episodic nature can only go so far for a film with a mix of seasoned cast and fresh faces to go with a director looking to tell a story to a bigger audience in his first effort. For better or worse, it's an okay time, light and charming in its small-town features to showcase its vision of the old days without being suffocated by itself.

Next Time: George Tillman Jr enters the stage with his biopic of the first African American master diver in the United States Navy with Men of Honor. 

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Malcolm X (1992).

Review #1643: Malcolm X.

Cast: 

Denzel Washington (Malcolm X), Angela Bassett (Betty Shabazz), Albert Hall (Baines), Al Freeman Jr. (Elijah Muhammad), Delroy Lindo (West Indian Archie), Spike Lee (Shorty), Theresa Randle (Laura), Kate Vernon (Sophia), with Lonette McKee (Louise Little), Tommy Hollis (Earl Little), James McDaniel (Brother Earl), Ernest Thomas (Sidney), Jean-Claude La Marre (Benjamin 2X), and Christopher Plummer (Chaplain Gill) Directed by Spike Lee (#1255 - Do the Right Thing, and #1543 - Inside Man)

Review: 

"We declare our right on this earth to be a man, to be a human being, to be respected as a human being, to be given the rights of a human being in this society, on this earth, in this day, which we intend to bring into existence by any means necessary.” 

When it comes to biographical epics, the best of those type of films are the ones that have plenty of challenge to overcome to portray a human being with the right amount of detail and understanding required that will pack as much insight as it does interest in a depiction that will stand just as well as any documentary or book. This is more than necessary when it comes to the subject of Malcolm X, this much is true. It started with The Autobiography of Malcolm X (1965), which was a collaboration between X and journalist Alex Haley in a series of interviews (for which there were more than 50 done) that were done between 1963 until X's assassination in 1965. Haley was considered at the time to be a ghostwriter for his contribution, but later years have noted his crucial role in discretion with handling the manuscript, and the epilogue was written specifically by Haley as comments of his own on X (three chapters excised from the final version were eventually found and put up for sale years later). Its publication led to a lasting influence on readers and writers alike as the first of numerous works involving the subject of Malcolm X, with a few biographies coming out in the next few decades. For example, one released in 2011 won a Pulitzer Prize but also inspired a response book aimed at correcting it, while a diary of Malcolm X's time in 1964 was released in 2014. The most recent biography was The Dead Are Arising, written by Les and Tamara Payne that was published to noted reviews in 2020.

It should not be surprising that a film was in the development stage as early as 1968 with the sale of rights to filming the novel going to producer Marvin Worth. He had met X long ago in the streets of New York and he would spend nearly 25 years trying to get a film about him to the big screen, which started by hiring novelist and playwright James Baldwin to develop the initial script. Screenwriter Arnold Perl would also be brought in to write for the screenplay, doing so until his death in 1971. The screenplay devised by Baldwin and Perl would ultimately falter into development struggles, although Baldwin would write about X various times over the next few years (such as No Name in the Street (1972), which depicted him from Baldwin's perspective) before his death in 1987 (he described the experience of trying to write a Hollywood adaptation as less than if one was horsewhipped or jailed in Bellevue); Baldwin would not be credited for his work when it came time for this film, as per requested by Baldwin's surviving family. Worth and Perl would work together for a documentary on X that was released in 1972 (done instead of a drama due to a lack of cooperation from close figures to speak on camera), which was mostly constructed of his speeches and interviews with occasional narration and newsreel footage. As was the case two decades later, Betty Shabazz served as a consultant to the filmmakers, and each was distributed by Warner Bros with voice-over work by Ossie Davis (reciting words spoken at X's eulogy). Several writers and directors were considered through a span of two decades (with one potential idea having Richard Pryor as X), and it was the argument over the qualifications of a white man directing in Norman Jewison (director of films like In the Heat of the Night) to direct that led to the ultimate pick in Lee, who had wanted to make a film of X since college (for his part, he received a bit of heat from black nationalists and others like Amiri Baraka that thought it would be a middle-class rendition of X, and more can be found about it in the book Lee wrote of his experiences making the film). 

Perhaps it was fate that Washington would play this role on film. Eleven years earlier, back when Washington was just a struggling actor, he was cast as Malcolm X in an Off Broadway production "When the Chickens Came Home to Roost"; when preparing for the role, he read the autobiography along with tapes and books and was struck by what he saw that he described as being like "heavy, mean stuff...helping me get some things off my chest." Even having Washington cast in the lead role and Lee as director didn't mean an easy production, which would experience immense pressure from community leaders (who feared a film with too much focus on his life before becoming X) to financiers (who aspired for a budget less than $30 million), for which donations were made by several prominent individuals that ranged from Michael Jordan to Prince. In essence, one could sum the feeling generated by the film through its last few spoken words, spoken through archival footage of X himself: "by whatever means necessary." It is the story of a man who forged a path of self-determination that lent clear expression to the frustrations expressed by crowds of people in America with a multi-faceted look at just who he was in the eyes of those who saw him (whether that meant the streets, jail, or on the podium) that makes a portrayal of legacy come through with fiery tension for all of what it wants to say in truths and about what endures about the man in the decades after his death. As X once stated, his life never stayed fixed in one place for too long, and this rings true here. Washington is asked to do a tremendous task of showing this one man go through the stages of life with diverse power that cannot waver, whether as "Red" or as the reborn X. He does a tremendous job here, towering over the other folks with mindset of eyes ready to open to speak of responsibility but also find his eyes open for himself to learn as well as teach as a man with no fear. Through the course of roughly two decades, we see the folks around him that make up three distinct periods of his life with varying effect and a distinct look from cinematographer Ernest B. Dickerson (in his last collaboration with Lee), and a student of history or knowing faces will see a few familiar ones along the way (such as Karen Allen or Bobby Seale, for example). The first spends time with Harlem and Boston with actors such as Lindo, Lee, Randle and Vernon. In those sequences, Washington sells the hustle and bustle of what is needed in tandem with Lindo, who is just as charismatic without having even half the time required, while Lee and the others do just fine. In the next time of focus, one focuses on Washington alongside Hall with a cameo from Plummer (playing self-righteousness with ease). Washington undergoes a new phase with awakening that is helped by Hall and his solemn conviction. The next one is distilled in two forms, involving Bassett and Freeman alongside supporting stuff from Thomas. Freeman does his part in wisdom alongside hypocrisy (a further look into him reveals more than just infidelity, let us say) while Bassett follows with Washington in well enough moments, and they have their part to play when it comes to that fateful climax.

Maneuvering the waters of adapting X to the screen meant a few moments of narrative reconciliation, even with a run time of 201 minutes. For instance, the character of Baines was actually a composite of X's siblings in respect to their role in the redemption of X while in prison. X's pilgrimage to Mecca (which was the first American feature to ever film there, although Lee had to hire a second unit crew to get permission...and Warner Bros actually thought of just doing it in New Jersey) was actually funded by his half sister Ella (also not mentioned), which is interesting considering that it is the last known surviving home of Malcolm in his childhood (he lived there with her for five years). There is one prominent figure absent in the story of the Nation of Islam, one with a legacy stoked with plenty of controversy (you might recognize him as the man behind the Million Man March alongside plenty of controversial remarks thought of as anti-Semitic or homophobic) that reportedly threatened Lee; it is disputed how much involvement the NOI may have had over the assassination even to this day. The film touches on the provocative from start to finish with its ties to the present day, most notably with the appearance of Nelson Mandela, reciting Malcolm's own words to a group of schoolchildren. In short, what we have is a film packed with a great deal of words to say about its subject then and now that generally hits the mark in stoking a statement about what he was to those that saw him in all of his forms, whether that means a kid born into tragedy, or a shaken upbringing into trouble, or a hardened man seeking light, or a man who found himself on a much bigger journey than himself. It could only end with the eulogy given by Davis, with his spoken words reaching ever still even with the passage of 27 years since he gave the words at X's funeral, one that described him as a prince that "didn't hesitate to die, because he loved us so." One could only aspire to live a life worth discussion over rhetoric and actions (controversy be damned) like X, and it is one's privilege to seek out the film for its shining performance in Washington that serves as one of his best alongside a director worthy of capturing it and everything that comes with it in all of its detail that makes it as worthy to see on one's shelf as much as something like Lawrence of Arabia (1962), where the three hours spent are good ones to spend with their eyes open.

Next Time: A television star goes to the director's chair with Once Upon a Time...When We Were Colored.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Boomerang (1992)

Review #1642: Boomerang.

Cast: 

Eddie Murphy (Marcus Graham), Robin Givens (Jacqueline Broyer), Halle Berry (Angela Lewis), David Alan Grier (Gerard Jackson), Martin Lawrence (Tyler Hawkins), Grace Jones (Helen Strangé), Geoffrey Holder (Nelson), Eartha Kitt (Lady Eloise), Chris Rock (Bony T), Tisha Campbell (Yvonne), Lela Rochon (Christie), and John Witherspoon (Mr. Jackson) Directed by Reginald Hudlin.

Review: 

"We wanted to tell stories that hadn’t been told yet. And for black audiences, they were like, “Oh my god, this is crazy — this is my actual life, and I’ve never seen that [on screen] before!”

Not many films exist where one could split the cast in half and have two decent potential films. This is exactly one of those films, particularly with the trajectories to come for a significant portion of its cast, whether involving film stars, television regulars, and futures in between. Think about it: You have a prime star in Murphy, who hadn't had a failure yet with audiences (critics is a different story, but who's counting?), and you have folks that were near the point of stardom with Berry, which goes right with television players in Grier, Lawrence, and Rock. One can't forget about the director in all of this. This was the second film of Reginald Hudlin, who had started his pursuit of filmmaking with study at Harvard University, as his eventual first film came from his thesis project short film in House Party, based on his experiences growing up in Illinois. He made the film alongside his brother Warrington (an occasional documentary maker who served as producer), and House Party (1990) turned out to be a huge hit, one that Hudlin found to be a take on films like American Graffiti and Risky Business but with a black focus. Shortly after that, he was sent a script by Murphy that dealt with a playboy that gets involved with a man-eater just like him. He responded to it well from the very get-go, liking that type of romantic comedy that Murphy had yet to really do for himself (Coming to America sort of did this, but that one also had Murphy play a whole bunch of characters). In short, Murphy wanted someone to help him do a film where he could be his whole self, not just a persona. This was the fifth film that Murphy would contribute in the writing department. He wrote the story while David Sheffield and Barry W. Blaustein (who wrote for Saturday Night Live during Murphy's tenure) did the screenplay (which occurred before with Coming to America four years prior). Believe it or not, the film did not have its original ending in the script retained for the final finish. It was originally supposed to end after the scene with the three friends (Murphy, Grier, Lawrence) reconciling on a rooftop, with no closing sequence involving romance, but Hudlin was convinced to make an ending where there had to be a definitive decision (this is a rom-com after all).

With a budget of $42 million, the film managed to pull in audience returns that were triple of the budget. I sure can see why, because I found it to be a fairly enjoyable rom-com, one that while predictable is at the very least interested in making a breezy film involving love and friendship with a few gags in between. Between this and Harlem Nights, it might prove a worthy double-header of films I liked that don't have as much attention to them as they probably should - one was a bit understated in its attempts at crime comedy, while this has some raunchy moments without becoming a parody of itself that I found pretty interesting, even if its 117 minute run-time (which incidentally matches the other film) could be a bit too much. In this sense, I think Murphy pulls off a well-to-do performance, mostly because his self-satisfied charisma seems more interesting to sit through than if it was just a role to make faces and instead play a rendition of Cary Grant, albeit for the 1990s. He proves to be quite interesting his contrasting sequences of pursuit with Givens or Berry, showing tenderness in its varied forms when looking at the prism of love. Givens (whose biggest role to that point was five seasons on Head of the Class starting in 1986) proves a formidable match. She plays the role with carefree confidence, one that springs to mind similarity to her counterpart co-star with cool detached spirit that works to what is needed without being treated for a silly gag or a moral handwave. Berry (in her fourth film role, having entered show business in 1989) seals the triangle of romance with grace and warmth that resonates well for some charming little moments. When it comes to the triangle of friends, Murphy, Grier, and Lawrence do pretty well with what is needed, for which the latter two play foils in their own respective ways. Grier (best known for Streamers and In Living Color) plays the square aspect with reason and fair timing to go with interesting moments, one of which involving the typical (at least for some...) embarrassing family Thanksgiving dinner with one-scene wonder Witherspoon. Lawrence (who had been featured in House Party while having his own sitcom premiere a month after the release of this film) proves quite spry in parts, such as one sequence involving pool and racial nature due to the the color of the balls used in the game that is a pretty good rant. As for Jones, the role she plays is one written specifically for herself (with nobody else in mind for the role). With a chance to do a few wild things that start with a great entrance, she does quite well in showing commitment to the parody, never quite winking at the camera but also not missing a chance to have fun at the same time, and Kitt also reflects that side of the coin as well in smaller portions (she had accepted the role after the script toned down some of the bawdier aspects of the role). To top it off, you have a right-at-home Holder playing a Dali imitation while Rock and Campbell play peanut gallery jokes to Murphy that land fine. On the whole, one will know where they are going pretty quickly with a film involving a lesson about one's place in commitment and honesty between loved ones that makes it worth the ride. It certainly pulled a ride worthy enough for its own television series, which was created for airing on BET (with Berry as an executive producer) over two decades after the release of the film that ran for two seasons. On the whole, I found this to be a fair gem in the aisle of romantic comedies, packed with a game cast that clearly seems to be in their element that overrides any detours of overwrought narratives or outdated notions to make for a fine time for those in the mindset for a fresh director and an established star trying to branch out. 

Next Time - No introduction necessary. Malcolm X.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Juice.

Review #1641: Juice.

Cast: 

Omar Epps (Quincy "Q" Powell), Tupac Shakur (Roland Bishop), Khalil Kain (Raheem Porter), Jermaine Hopkins (Eric "Steel" Thurman), Cindy Herron (Yolanda), Vincent Laresca (Radames), Samuel L. Jackson (Trip), George O. Gore II (Brian), Grace Garland (Q's mother), Queen Latifah (Ruffhouse MC), and Victor Campos (Quilez) Directed by Ernest B. Dickerson.

Review: 

"A lot of the people said that 'Juice' was another 'Boyz N the Hood,' but it wasn't. Just because you have a story dealing with young black males of the same age group doesn't mean you have the same story. The forces that are working in L.A. with the kids are different than the forces at play in Harlem with the kids."

Directors can come from anywhere, so it should not be a surprise to see a cinematographer step right into doing filmmaking on their own. Ernest B. Dickerson had an interest in movies from a young age (such as David Lean's Oliver Twist), but his first line of study was architecture at Howard University. After a row of work in photography, the New Jersey native soon shifted to film study with the Tisch School of the Arts (New York University's film program), and it was through studying with film viewings such as Passing Through that helped shape his desire to take the craft of filmmaking very seriously. One fellow student at the school that he met was Spike Lee. Dickerson would do the cinematography from Lee's student film Joe's Bed-Stuy Barbershop: We Cut Heads (1983). Dickerson would move on to shooting a variety of media such as music videos, television, and films (including Lee's first few films as director), but his interest in doing his own films was never away from his mind, and it eventually resulted in his first chance to make his own film, for which this served as his debut. He and Gerard Brown had wrote the script together when at film school in 1984, but it gestated for a couple of years and even went through more than one film studio (The Donners' Company wanted to lighten the tone). Inspired by works such as Claude Brown's Manchild in the Promised Land and films like White Heat (1949), he aspired to make a worthwhile noir with a group of mostly unknown leads.

It certainly fits the mold one might think of with a noir-like film involving trying to earn respect in the streets, even as a growing man. It is the story of people trapped in a situation that warps beyond their control until all that is left is a withered use of what seems like respect. It does so by moving through the routines of a group of four individuals with careful pacing that eventually makes for a powder keg of tension involving the damage caused through one decisive action that creates a web of nightmares that can't be solved by a simple phone call. In short, it makes for a pretty good film that rides the wave of moral greyness with a fair share of terror to go with a useful quartet. Among the quartet, Hopkins had the most acting experience of the group, since he started acting at the age of 13 with Lean on Me (1989), while each of the actors were making their first feature appearance. Epps is the primary key of focus, and it is easy to see why he would garner further roles in future years, because he pulls off a soothing lead performance, one with conflict and persistence that sells the moments required through collected charm - one highlight involves him forging a chance at being a DJ that mixes with the conflict of keeping alliance with his friends, where his moment of pride is followed by the looks on the faces of the quartet into what has to be done. This was the first starring role for Shakur, who proves to be just as magnetic on the other side of the coin. A student of the Baltimore School for the Arts (studying acting, poetry, and ballet), he had started in music with Digital Underground as a roadie and backup dancer and soon after made his impact known on the rap scene in 1991 with the release of his first album. This would be the first of just six films with him in a main role before his death in 1996. One can't take their eyes off him, mostly because he proves quite spontaneous in what you can and cannot see coming from him, menacing but still on one's mind with the soul of a poet in his own way. Kain and Hopkins accompany them with useful charm, never falling into the background because of their dutiful warmth. Others fill the moments in between, such as a caring Herron that pairs with Epps for two scenes, or figures in the grey area like Laresca and Jackson. At any rate, the film does well with its 95 minute run-tie in setting up a mosaic of life within Harlem without being trapped into too many clichés or absorbing itself too much.

Of course not all films can end easily. Upon doing test screenings, the studio insisted upon changing one detail about the ending - the primary moment still happens as it (namely, someone falling off a building), but the nature of the moment was changed by having it resemble an accident (with an added scream) rather than being a calculated move, much to the regret of Dickerson (imagine Paramount Pictures thinking "a measure of hope" was needed to be reflected, as if somehow noirs of the past needed to be a bit more jolly). With a budget of $5 million, the film made four times its budget back, and it is easy to see why. With a fresh cast that makes the most of their gun morality tale, Juice makes for a fine time to sit through in curiosity for what it wants to say about respect and youth that proves worthy nearly three decades later.

A side note. I do apologize for the delay these past five days. Honestly, the cold rush didn't look as bad on Friday compared to the days that would come next...particularly Sunday night, as I was hoping to avoid a power outage at all costs. My thoughts go out to folks affected by the winter storm across my state of Texas alongside all the folks affected across the nation, since no one should be dealing with a lack of power at a time like this. In any case, I am going to make sure these next few reviews are pushed out with care and hopefully without a hitch. 

Next Time - A basket case of stars that really could've inhabited two movies. In any case, it's time to swing around with Boomerang.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Boyz n the Hood.

Review #1640: Boyz n the Hood.

Cast: 

Cuba Gooding Jr (Jason "Tre" Styles III), Ice Cube (Darren 'Doughboy' Baker), Laurence Fishburne (Jason 'Furious' Styles Jr), Morris Chestnut (Ricky Baker), Nia Long (Brandi), Angela Bassett (Reva Devereaux), Tyra Ferrell (Brenda Baker), Redge Green (Chris 'Little Chris'), Regina King (Shalika), Whitman Mayo (The Old Man), with Dezi Arnez Hines II, Baha Jackson, Donovan McCrary, Nicole Brown, and Kenneth A. Brown (age 10 of Tre, Doughboy, Ricky, Brandi & Chris) and Jessie Lawrence Ferguson (Officer Coffey) Written and Directed by John Singleton (#545 - Shaft (2000))

Review: 

"I was a smartass film student who thought he knew everything about movies. When it got green-lit is when I got scared."

If anybody should look up to a director that made their mark while they were young, John Singleton would be a good choice to start with. The Los Angeles native made nine feature films before his death at 51, but his first feature certainly rocked the doors for audiences in its time. He grew up inspired by films like Star Wars (1977) and the works of Steven Spielberg to go with study at USC School of Cinematic Arts (choosing filmic writing over computer science) - one influence that does come across is Stand By Me (1986), since both involve emotional coming of age stories (and one other moment near the credits, but see for yourself). By the time he graduated, he already was signed by the Creative Artists Agency, and Columbia Pictures eventually came calling. Singleton noted that one of the questions asked by the school was pitching one's own ideas for a film and this was one of the pitches, for which Singleton based it on his experiences growing up in L.A. (such as his experiences growing up with his mortgage broker father after his mother sent him to live with him at 11), complete with filming there. In the era of films with hits like Hollywood Shuffle (1987) and Do the Right Thing (1989), it would only seem sensical for Columbia Pictures to desire a hit of their own to ride the wave with audiences. He wanted to do the film his way, with nobody else in mind to direct (because of his perspective of you know, actually living in the area), noting the fact of someone directing a neighborhood film without being from the area with Colors (1988), which took the perspective of white police officers in South Los Angeles when dealing with gangs. Ultimately, while Singleton's subsequent works may not have reached the heights raised by his debut work, he managed to make important distinctions in cinema - he was the youngest director to ever be nominated for the Academy Award for Best Director and he was also the first African American director to be nominated for the award (he also received a nod for Best Original Screenplay). 

You bet this was a film beyond the headlines. Singleton wanted to make a film with authenticity that turns the coming-of-age story on its head with hard-hitting realism that proves to be quite sobering and relentlessly consistent - a year later, Los Angeles would go through a serious of riots only a year after the release of this film (after the acquittal of officers that had beaten Rodney King during an arrest that happened right before this film was released, and Singleton would do a documentary on television about the riots 25 years later). Released with the tagline "Increase the Peace", it shows the danger of cyclic violence without bashing one's head with anything too obvious or false in notes that also deals with other aspects of life within urban streets, such as the nature of masculinity and prejudice. Singleton would later refer to himself as the first filmmaker from the hip-hop generation, using the aesthetic to cover a culture that made it into all of his films. There would be a variety of films involving what one would call the hood film that would come out in the wake of this film (such as South Central (1992) or ones with comedy such as Friday (1995), which Singleton encouraged Cube to write), but there is still something powerful about this feature that three decades cannot diminish. Wrapped in all this is a tremendously talented cast, one that makes these characters come alive with energy that makes a worthy composition about life in the neighborhood come across in all of its layers - it works as a drama, but there are moments too with these folks that makes one crack a smile to go with the gasps.  The film was the first major role for Gooding Jr (who believe it or not actually started in breakdancing before moving focus to acting) alongside Long and Bassett, and it was also the debut role for Cube (known for his rapping with N.W.A. before moving into solo performing) and Chestnut (who naturally came into acting through TV fare like Freddy's Nightmares). The unifying force for 112 minutes in terms of its time spent with the youth and growing teenage folks turns to Fishburne, who provides the best performance among everyone with crisp influence, one that is conscious in his confidence that resonates deeply from the first few moments on screen; there are a variety of highlights one could list, such as a scene in Compton and neighborhoods being taken advantage of, but the scene with a silent Gooding Jr and Fishburne, staring at the choices made and not made for the climax that hits just as hard. In that sense, Gooding Jr makes a quality lead to follow along with, curious in his surroundings with responsibility with perseverance alongside tension that doesn't get swept away. Cube carries his part well, brash but always on the moment for what needs to occur with perspective and timing. Chestnut fills well with potential, smooth in his balance of family and life beyond the field that makes a worthy rapport with Gooding Jr count until that key moment near its end, which results in an impactful sequence for shock without being exploitative. Long and Bassett each fill their time spent with Gooding Jr in key necessities that spark maturity and curiosity, while Green, Gobert, and Sykes fill the edges with useful timing, although Ferguson will likely stick with you in his own way with bitterness with just two scenes as the only cop figure in the film. As a whole, the film establishes itself quite quickly in an engaging and sobering atmosphere that keeps itself in perspective with regard to youth and responsibility that muses on issues that still seem prevalent today with violence that makes for a usefully entertaining feature. For a debut, it is a tremendous one, and for its era it is an enduring one for Singleton and the stars and moments that came from it.

Next Time: 1992 seems like an interesting year to do some films with, so we will start with the first one up in release with a first-time director in Juice.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Harlem Nights.

Review #1639: Harlem Nights.

Cast: 

Eddie Murphy (Vernest "Quick" Brown), Richard Pryor (Sugar Ray), Redd Foxx (Bennie Wilson), Danny Aiello (Phil Cantone), Michael Lerner (Bugsy Calhoune), Della Reese (Madame Vera Walker), Berlinda Tolbert (Annie), Stan Shaw (Jack Jenkins), Jasmine Guy (Dominique La Rue), Vic Polizos (Richie Vento), Lela Rochon (Sunshine), David Marciano (Tony), Arsenio Hall (Reggie), and Thomas Mikal Ford (Tommy Smalls) Written and Directed by Eddie Murphy.

Review: 

It goes without saying that Eddie Murphy was a prime comedic star for the 1980s. It sure is something that one can be the headline presence in nine feature films in that era and have only one of them be an outright stinker (Best Defense, although the jury will be out on The Golden Child, another one that Murphy detested, until I actually get around to it...). He had various influences growing up that ranged from Richard Pryor to Bruce Lee, but it is the former that he most aspired to be most like. After all, Murphy thought he was going to be famous from a young age, but it was listening to one of Pryor's albums that made him think about doing comedy. And...you know the rest, but there is one thing to state about this film: it is the only time he has directed his own film, for which he also served as executive producer. The film ultimately turned out to be a mixed result. On the one hand, Murphy and the others did enjoy themselves quite a bit, to which Murphy described it as a blur that was amazing for coming together - at least in recent times, since he also called it part of his bizarre periods that catered to what he thought would please everybody while plagued with adulation, where the funny stuff seemed to be more offstage than in the film. One apparent inspiration was the real life conflict between gangsters involving Harlem, as Dutch Schultz and Bumpy Johnson had a conflict in the mid 1930s. Strangely enough, Johnson had been used as the inspiration for a variety of films with gangster characters, such as Shaft (1971) and The Cotton Club (1984). 

It can certainly be said that this is a weird vanity project, one that has a labor of love for wanting to work with inspirations that result in a wild up-and-down film. It was a mild success with its $30 million budget, but it also received mostly derisive attention for its time that has only slightly molded down into the box of "cult classic" from others. In other words: a mixed bag, one that can either be the equivalent of a good time spent for amusement, or one that can be thought of as too familiar or vulgar to work in either action or comedy. For me, I thought it was just fine - cliché period piece or not, there was still something for me to enjoy, even though it obviously isn't the best way to make one's own vanity piece (believe me, The Postman (1997), vanity piece or not, was far more embarrassing to go through). If a regular film student had done this basic premise, we would probably think of it as average fluff, but Murphy being the driving force basically magnifies everything to 10. Of course, the obscenities don't help, but am I really going to be the one to cry about swear words in a film? Class and bawdiness are the yin-and-yang of any time period, really (at least the ones that people want to live in instead of their own). Truthfully, the film works best when trying to not strain for a joke, where it allows itself to enjoy the crisp look that one will either tolerate as something they've seen before or wish they were watching another film about switcheroos (once one does The Sting (1973), can one really ever go back?). In that sense, while Murphy likely should have had someone else direct or had a script polishing, he does a fair job in balancing himself out, being semi-funny with a few quips in a generally warm-headed performance that anyone would be fine with in having mentors around while blowing folks away. On the other side of lead actors, this one was near the close of Pryor's career. He had suffered a variety of health problems (having been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 1986, for which he said got worse in 1990) alongside doing a selection of wide-ranging comedy work (which ranged from Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life Is Calling to Superman III), and this was his third-to-last starring role. He had his own reservations about his performance, one that he toned down from script-to-screen that seemed (to him) to be bothered by his MS diagnosis, and he felt that he never connected with Murphy and his "mean" comedy. Honestly, it is a fine performance, one that obviously is trying to play that line of weariness in being a mentor and also an adept player to what is needed - it results in a few amusing moments.  This was the last film role for Foxx, who incidentally would star alongside Reese in a Murphy-produced television show with The Royal Family (1991), which ended up being Foxx's last project prior to his death at the age of 68. He still seems to have the spark needed in wiry background amusement, and one can see a useful duo between him and Reese. Not to be forgotten for their own contributions in being a name for themselves before filming is Reese, who was known for her jazz and gospel singing for three decades alongside vast work in television. The film suits her well for a variety of amusing moments of bombast, with the sequences between her and Murphy (one of which involving a fight in an alley) proving a worthy highlight. Aiello and Lerner each make useful adversaries (cliché, but still), riding the line of imposing threat in each line of focus (whether as a beleaguered boss or a jealous cop in a hovel) that fits the standard needed. Others make appearances here and there that in theory could lead somewhere (such as a subdued Guy), but it ends up with Hall being the most interesting one to see in a short role, playing the crying game of mayhem pretty well. As a whole, 116 minutes of run-time is either too long for a film of this caliber or curious enough to want to see it all the way through. It is nobody's idea of a great crime comedy, but Harlem Nights could be worth your while if you find the sum of its parts enough to satisfy your curiosity. 

Next Time: The first film on my mind for this project - Boyz n the Hood.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Bird.

Review #1638: Bird.

Cast: 

Forest Whitaker (Charlie "Bird" Parker), Diane Venora (Chan Parker), Michael Zelniker (Red Rodney), Samuel E. Wright (Dizzy Gillespie), Keith David (Buster Franklin), Diane Salinger (Baroness Nica de Koenigswarter), Michael McGuire (Brewster), James Handy (Esteves), Anna Thomson (Audrey), Damon Whitaker (Young Bird Parker), Arlen Dean Snyder (Dr. Heath), Sam Robards (Moscowitz), and Bill Cobbs (Dr. Caulfield) Produced and Directed by Clint Eastwood (#1252 - Space Cowboys, #1310 - Million Dollar Baby, #1476 - Pale Rider, #1501 - Unforgiven, and #1550 - Gran Torino)

Review: 

"I'd love to go back in time. To Bourbon Street in the 20's, to 12th Street in Kansas City in the 30's, to 52nd Street in the late 40's."

It was once said by Miles Davis (a legend in his own right in music) that one could tell the history of jazz in four words: "Louis Armstrong. Charlie Parker." Jazz, one of the great music genres of the times, certainly had plenty of historical figures leading the way, and the key to understanding one of its styles rests with Charlie "Yardbird" Parker. The Kansas City native used his time on this Earth for a variety of impactful compositions that clearly touched upon numerous listeners with his alto saxophone of fast tempos and improvisation before his death in 1954. One of those folks was Clint Eastwood, who heard the musician play in Oakland when he was just 15. The film was made on a budget of $9-14 million and came around years after its script was developed by Joel Oliansky in 1980 (shaped by recollections from colleague Teddy Edwards), and it was originally intended to be a project for Richard Pryor. There would be participation from a variety of people close to Parker, such as his common law widow Chan Parker, provided recordings to Eastwood that she had in a vault. It was the first Eastwood film that he had directed where he did not appear in any form (Breezy (1973) had a cameo of him). This was the first of a group of jazz-related programs that Eastwood would be behind in some form (mostly producing), with 1988 also seeing the release of a documentary of the life of Thelonious Monk. It is the sound that matters most when it comes to this film (particularly with music coordinator and former alto sax at Birdland Lennie Niehaus, tasked with writing for the instruments to play where the original piano music was playing), since the recordings of Parker had to be digitally and electronically isolated from the solos, with modern backing tracks recorded over.

While it was not a success with audiences at the time of its release, it certainly has an appeal for those interested in jazz or for those who yearn to see someone at the top of their craft, struggles and all. The beauty of the film is the rhythm it carries with its tribute to a jazz legend with a biography that depicts selections from his life without rote routine or a judging eye. In a way, it moves like a beat you might hear in a jazz composition with all of the thoughtful moodiness required to make a worthwhile time. All interesting biopics have a performance to carry it and no one should be surprised by Whitaker and his effectiveness in bringing Bird to the screen. This was the first starring lead role for Whitaker, who had entered films and television with supporting roles in 1982 such as Tag: The Assassination Game (1982) and Platoon (1986) after a back injury had him shift focus away from football, although he did do some study in music before doing drama. He is the guiding force that makes the film work as smoothly as it does, one that can justify spending plenty of time with in all the soulful aspects that makes for a fascinating experience. He manages to carry talent alongside pain that we can see play a note alongside play his burden without just finding it easy to take judgement or easy pity for as a man. In other words, we see the genius that comes from the notes in the fragments that come out alongside his highs and lows that came with a struggle with addiction to heroin. Venora plays a worthy settling piece to the times away from the road, one with warmth and reason that come around with various scenes that jump from end to end (whether involving interludes at home or near the ends of the timeline spent). Zelniker does fine in those moments on the road, balancing talent with wracked nerve that obviously strikes a chord with what is needed with Whitaker, whether that means an albino act or struggles with oneself (incidentally, the real Rodney participated in the production and is even mentioned in the credits). Wright does well with following along with the beat required from Whitaker without being stepped on (as one would see coming from another figure of bebop jazz, who was touring at the time of production). David and his time spent are quite fleeting, but he sure does well with setting up one particular scene quite well involving cymbals despite playing a composite. Salinger plays the fateful part needed from someone who invites curiosity (incidentally, the real life Baroness was also featured in the documentary about the life of Monk, which aired the month before her death). I suppose any biography is going to have twiddling with the facts, and there are a few things one might quibble with, which is interesting for a film of 155 minutes. Maybe it depends on how much one knows on the subject to begin with, since one might not know about Parker's other marriages (which I probably should have guessed with the whole common thing I described earlier) or lack of mention to associations Parker had with musicians like Miles Davis. In the end, it just comes down to how much one finds themselves enjoying the experience to be had with an elegy for a legend that captures what it means to move to the tune of one's own beat as a film for all of the musicians.

Next Time: Legends in the fields of laughter come together for a most unusual film with a one-time director. Night time comes for Harlem Nights.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Car Wash.

Review #1637: Car Wash.

Cast: 

Franklyn Ajaye (T.C./Theodore Chauncy Elcott), Sully Boyar (Leon 'Mr B.' Barrow), Ivan Dixon (Lonnie), Bill Duke (Duane / Abdullah), Antonio Fargas (Lindy), Michael Fennell (Calvin), Arthur French (Charlie), Leonard Jackson (Earl), DeWayne Jessie (Lloyd), Jack Kehoe (Scruggs), Lauren Jones (Marleen), Henry Kingi (Goody), Melanie Mayron (Marsha), Garrett Morris (Slide), Clarence Muse (Snapper), Leon Pinkney (Justin), with Richard Brestoff (Irwin Barrow), Carmine Caridi (Foolish Father), George Carlin (the Taxi Driver), "Professor" Irwin Corey (The Mad Bomber), Lorraine Gary (the Hysterical Lady), Richard Pryor (Daddy Rich), and The Pointer Sisters (The Wilson Sisters) Directed by Michael Schultz.

Review: 

"In many films, I want to tell a story everybody can understand. But more importantly, I want an audience to come out of a film with more than what they went in with—thinking, feeling, laughing, crying."

There are quite a few directors and actors who made a name for themselves within African American cinema in the 1970s, and Michael Schultz belongs in the conversation for that era. He attended the University of Wisconsin before dropping out to work in a steel mill and then moving on to study and graduate at Marquette. He made his debut as a stage manager in The Old Glory (1964) Having already been involved in theater productions in high school, he was well-suited for when he moved on to attend Princeton University, where he directed his first play in 1966 (he would manage or direct numerous performances from 1964 to 1974). His staging of To Be Young, Gifted and Black resulted in success alongside a re-staging for television two years later. Alongside entering television for several series, he also moved into films with Together for Days (1972) and Honeybaby, Honeybaby (1974), although his breakthrough would come with Cooley High (1975) with audiences that has been noted as a classic by future directors like Spike Lee. Although Schultz's career moved down a tick with the noted failure Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1978), he continued his work in film and television, and he can still be found in the latter category to the present day.

How many movies are there that involve a slice-of-life portrayal of a job that could be described in the same way one could say about future films about crabby lines of work? Or for that matter, how many are ones that were thought of as intended to be a musical? When the production head at Universal Pictures was pitched the play idea, he hated it, but told producers Art Linson and Gary Stromberg to just get the writer behind Sparkle and make a movie instead. Car Wash is certainly that one, a film that actually had its soundtrack recorded before the film started production in order for the actors to listen to it, complete with using a real car wash (Figueroa Car Wash in Los Angeles) for filming. The soundtrack was done by Rose Royce, and the title song became a number one hit while the soundtrack won a Grammy Award (the film has been argued to be one of the first disco-infused films). Believe it or not, the film was written by Joel Schumacher, who had just one prior writing credit (Sparkle, released the same year), having moved up from costume and set design to writing to eventually directing by 1981 (but not before writing another famed film with disco influence with The Wiz). What we have here is a trove of ensemble fun, one that settles in like a series of sketches as the day (90 minutes) goes by, with an assortment of fair highlights among a few noteworthy check-ins and an interesting closure. Those familiar with films like American Graffiti (1973) will have a fine time with an ensemble piece with radio-infused style and narration. There are some charmers in the cast when it comes to lovable crass folks, such as Ajaye (known for his brief string of comedy albums) and his carefree range of buzzy charm, which goes along with other fun-loving sly folks like Fargas or Kehoe or beleaguered ones like Boyer; on the other side of focus is Dixon (best known for his lead role in Nothing But a Man (1964) and support in Hogan's Heroes), who provides shining struggle to go with the coarse Duke (in his debut film role) that shows the reality of what they do (meager job, meager pay, but one has to do it).

And then of course there are the small bit from notable folks. Carlin (a well-known comic of the counterculture with his second film role) has an interesting time spent with wandering amusement that rambles for a short time. The same goes for Corey and his nutty small turn to set up a gag with a bottle in the air, while Gary plays hysterics to that key breaking moment. Believe it or not, Pryor (a stand-up comic in his prime) making a cameo appearance in the film was not actually planned at first. For one, it was intended to be a fellow named Reverend Ike (who would be playing a character inspired by himself), but when he turned it down, Pryor stepped in (Schultz and Pryor gave differing assessments on the performance, as the former noted the actor as doing numerous variations on one theme that a director has to guide/pick while Pryor thought he should have known better but was under the influence of cocaine at the time to notice) - for me, it's the most interesting appearance, one with a music group to make prime flim-flam benevolence. Be thankful one can see the film in its full form and not have to live in a time with edited TV versions circulating, one of which that takes out the raunchy elements alongside adding/deleting characters (Lindy out for a character played by Danny DeVito, who is all but deleted from the original version except in the background). At any rate, what we have is a deserving favorite by the audience that have warmed up to it in the four decades since its release, one that has a charm worth looking into.

Next Time: Sure, this director has been covered plenty of times before. But it is his portrayal of the life of one of the most famous jazz saxophonists that merits discussion, especially since it wasn't given its due upon release with its key lead performance from Forest Whitaker. Rock the beat for Bird (1988).

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Abby.

Review #1636: Abby. 

Cast: 

William Marshall (Bishop Garnet Williams), Terry Carter (Rev. Emmett Williams), Austin Stoker (Det. Cass Potter), Carol Speed (Abby Williams), Juanita Moore (Miranda 'Momma' Potter), Charles Kissinger (Dr. Hennings), Elliott Moffitt (Russell Lang), Nathan Cook (Tafa Hassan), Nancy Lee Owens (Mrs. Wiggins), and William P. Bradford (Dr. Rogers) Directed by William Girdler.

Review: 

"Sure, we made 'Abby' to come in on the shirttail of 'The Exorcist."

There are plenty of hands responsible for such an interesting piece of horror curiosity that fits its era like no other. The first step is to cite the director in William Girdler. The Kentucky native made nine films before his tragic death in 1978, with the films specializing in horror and action. Girdler's films were never considered great pieces of entertainment, but they certainly had a place, whether involving killer nature like Grizzly (1976) or blaxploitation action like Sheba, Baby (1975). However, it was this film that helped bring him into attention, for good and bad reasons. Of course, one needs a good cast to drive a horror film, so why not have an actor familiar with scares - enter William Marshall. The Indiana native went to New York University initially for art, but he found himself interested into theater, and his study at the Actors Studio among other playhouses led to a debut on Broadway in 1944. He would receive notice for his work in theater work such as The Green Pastures and Shakespearean performances such as Othello. His first film role was Lydia Bailey (1952), and blacklisting could not keep him down from keeping busy with television as well to accompany his voice and stature. One of his most notable roles came within horror: the title role in Blacula (1972), for which he would reprise for the sequel a year later. Relating in all of this is American International Pictures, who distributed both Blacula and this film. Marshall reportedly was disappointed by the script's lessened focus on the spiritual aspects of the West Africa Yourbas (which he had suggested in the first place), with Girdler and Gordon Cornell Layne co-writing the film together.

So, coming on the heels of films inspired by horror movies like Blacula and Blackenstein, Abby proved to be quite a hit on release, making back its reported $100,000 budget with at least $4 million in box office sales, while Girdler would continue on to do numerous films in the decade that involved blaxploitation and/or horror. Of course, that is not all of the story. Abby quickly met an end to its theatrical release days when American International Pictures was sued by Warner Brothers because the studio believed that they had infringed on their film in terms of plot, which happened to be The Exorcist. Believe it or not, this was not the only time that Warner Brothers had targeted a film believed to have infringed on their film, since Beyond the Door (1974) was also targeted for its supposed similarities. The lawsuit drove AIP to take the film out of distribution (as AIP and WB apparently made a deal involving unfreezing revenue) and it would take until 2006 for there to be a release on home media, and the version I saw was one with plenty of grime to see in all of its 16mm glory (in other words, on certain Internet channels). Honestly, the lawsuit is absurd, because viewing Abby would reveal the obvious differences between the two. The Exorcist was a solemn, chilling film that took its time to develop terror with a child possessed (of course, I've only seen it once) in a house. Abby is a funky film that sets itself up with clunky exposition involving a fertility spirit, a mix of soul music to go alongside occasional subliminal shots of its demon that takes hold of a woman and leaves her craving folks across the town to terrorize in various ways, which climaxes with a fight in a bar. Without Marshall and a semi-interesting mish-mashed performance from Speed and voice artist Bob Holt, the film would collapse in on itself as a hilarious joke, honestly. There are quite a few scenes of clunky exposition, this much is for sure. From the opening involving students talking about the talents of our archeologist/priest right down to talk about just how Abby is so sweet (marriage counsellor, youth leader, AND working with the junior choir). But don't worry, you won't have to wait long for antics with a demon, whether involving trouble with a distracting knife or singing to a crowd of indifferent congregation members (okay, actually Speed did the song herself, but the editing doesn't help) to coughing/attacking fits that leave a few people gasping for air...and some of that is out of laughter, particularly with a chase sequence that starts with one carjacking that leads to another (from a reverend!). A climax involving a colorful triangle and foaming at the mouth with an exploding bar makes this seem like a film with confused inhibitions about exactly what it is: it certainly is more interesting when trying to focus on either spirituality within a game Marshall or the conflict between Carter and Speed, but its attempts at scares are no better than dressing up in a Halloween mask and going "BOO!" at them, and calling it an imitator of The Exorcist is generous at best. It might have been a move to try and bully a less prominent studio (or a ploy by AIP to get money), but I would at least say this is a film worth a curious glance, if only because it is interesting to see Marshall in a lead role alongside a moderate effort from others like Girdler in sweet deliverable trash horror cinema.

Next Time: Drop in for a laugh with Michael Schultz and a diverse group of characters in Car Wash (1976).

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Cotton Comes to Harlem.

Review #1635: Cotton Comes to Harlem.

Cast: 

Godfrey Cambridge (Gravedigger Jones), Raymond St. Jacques (Coffin Ed Johnson), Calvin Lockhart (Deke O'Malley), Judy Pace (Iris Brown), Redd Foxx (Uncle Budd / Booker Washington Sims), Emily Yancy (Mabel), John Anderson (Bryce), Lou Jacobi (Goodman), Eugene Roche (Anderson), J.D. Cannon (Calhoun), Mabel Robinson (Billie), Dick Sabol (Jarema), and Cleavon Little (Lo Boy) Directed by Ossie Davis.

Review: 

“...Harlem was home; was where we belonged; where we knew and were known in return; where we felt most alive; where, if need be, somebody had to take us in. Harlem defined us, claiming our consciousness and, I suspect, our unconsciousness.”

Actors becoming directors is not a surprising thing to see, because it has occurred for several decades, so one shouldn't be surprised to find that this was the directorial debut for Ossie Davis. The Georgia native initially studied at Howard University (after receiving a scholarship from the National Youth Administration) in philosophy. However, when asked by Dr. Alain LeRoy Locke (the head of the department) what his ambitions were, Davis had stated he wanted to be a playwright. Spurred by suggestions to check in with the Rose McClendon Players in Harlem to check what it means to be a writer, Davis left the university to go to Harlem, for which he joined the company in 1939 (seven years later, he would debut on Broadway). Aside from his acting interests, he also served in the United States Army for the Medical Corps and afterwards attended Columbia University School of General Studies from 1947 to 1948. Davis would start appearing in film in 1950 and television in 1955, eventually getting a few prominent roles (such as his first starring role with The Emperor Jones (1955, TV), Gone Are the Days! (1963, film), which also featured Cambridge, or The Hill (1965)) while being well known for his participation in civil rights activism (alongside his wife and actress Ruby Dee). This was the first of five theatrical films that Davis would direct in his life, and he was brought in by Samuel Goldwyn, Jr initially to star before being impressed by Davis' work in rewriting the script to have him direct instead. When it comes to the 1970s, blaxploitation was one of the dominant genres to come forward in making movies. It might be hard to describe what is the first one of its genre, but there were certainly example-setters in films that raised attention and eyebrows that came around at the start of the decade, whether involving Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song (1971), or Shaft (1971). Of course one that shouldn't be forgotten is a film released a year before either film, one that is adapted from the 1965 novel of the same name that had been written by Chester Himes. The novel was part of Himes' series of mystery novels known as the Harlem Detective series, which had nine published works from A Rage in Harlem (1957) up to the last one in Blind Man With a Pistol (1969), with one unpublished work eventually being released after Himes' death. Eight of the nine works involved the characters of Gravedigger and Coffin Ed, obviously inspired by the exploits of pulp writers like Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler. There have been two subsequent films since this one that were based on the two characters with Come Back, Charleston Blue (1971, starring Cambridge and St. Jacques but with no Davis) and A Rage in Harlem (1991).

What's not to like about a movie that wants to balance high action with cheeky humor? The film was written by Davis and Arnold Perl, who incidentally wrote for a variety of cop dramas (alongside directing the documentary Malcolm X (1972) before his death). They may be rough-and-tumble cops, but they sure don't break their promises to make sure to serve the community, especially when they are being swindled. I sure enjoyed what I saw, and it sure is easy to see why it proved to be on the earliest examples of raucous action entertainment, nothing that ends up great or even really good, but average is pretty good. This might be represented by a brief fight in the opening eight minutes, in which Cambridge and St. Jaques briefly deal in a scuffle with five folks that leads to one of the group getting tossed in the air to the stares of the others as he falls right back down. Not to be let down in further play in action is a roaring heist/duel between cops and thieves for money. Somehow, in the midst of the chase, the money was put into a bale of cotton and fell out of the truck, which naturally means the film is a pursuit of the cotton and the cons played to deal with said money. A variety of things occur through the film, such as a defrocked conman, blackmail, and plenty of gunfire and smart remarks to go around in a film shot in the summer of 1969 right in the heart of Harlem (with community support from The Black Citizens Patrol). Truly, one could see plenty of self-determination when it comes to slam-bang fun for a mostly interesting 97 minute tale. It might not rank up as a great action film or even as iconic as Shaft proved to be a year later, but it sure is a useful film that remains a curiosity after five decades, one that gets by with pride for its setting without too many details to bog things down. We have quite a duo here in Cambridge (who initially wanted to study medicine at Hofstra College before turning to acting) and St. Jaques (a Yale graduate in drama), each of whom did a variety of odd jobs alongside making it in acting through Off-Broadway roles; incidentally, Cambridge would also star in Watermelon Man (1970), which was also one of the first studio films directed by an African American (in this case Melvin Van Pebbles). At any rate, they make for a fine duo together, trading a few snappy lines that make for some chuckles while keeping the peace of mind with a casual cop plot. Lockhart makes for a quality adversary in terms of flim-flam confidence man, which goes over quite well in balancing humor with tension. Others follow along just fine in delivering a few plot details or curious stares, most notably with Foxx (known for his raunchy nightclub acts before sitcom stardom came in 1972), who proves for a few chummy laughs (particularly with a fitting close scene. Others play amusing fiddles such as Sabol or authority like Roche alright. As a whole, the film works best in its first and last acts, mostly because its process of investigation takes its toll in the editing department - the closing may not involve a big gunfight (that was earlier), but having a showdown in the theater is good enough. Is it a great film? No, and there would be plenty of blaxploitation films to come around, but it certainly has a place worth talking about when it comes to actor-director ventures with a bit of action and humor to go around.

Next Time: Now this one is different for Black History Month from the new voices seen so far, but it fits because of its angle within horror at the height of blaxploitation. That, and the fact it has an interesting history to it - Abby (1974).

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.