Juice
Ernest R Dickerson 1992 USA
Starring: Tupac Shakur, Omar Epps, Khalil Khan, Jermaine ‘Huggy’ Hopkins, Samuel L Jackson, Cindy Herron, Queen Latifah, Dr Dre, Fab 5 Freddie
I may be crazy (in fact there's little doubt) but I'm starting to think that Tupac Shakur was really a rather talented actor. Following on from last week's viewing of Gridlock'd, in which he was pretty much the only saving grace, comes a stunning earlier performance from a time when he was barely an adult. And, as was the case in that film, he's the best part of Juice, his psychotic, trigger-happy teen Bishop fearless and immovable even when he's got a flick-knife stuck up his nostril. When he confronts leading man Q, played competently if with little fire by Omar Epps, and emphatically admits that he's crazy you absolutely believe him. It's startling somehow to think that he was capable of such intensity particularly as the film itself is ultimately disappointing, starting out as it does as a dumb, badly-acted comedy complete with fat jokes and gaudily-coloured parachute pants before plunging you into a tense and realistic morality play with grimy cinematography and no real ending. Indeed, despite its relatively short running time, it sort of just stops. And of course the usual references are there with Bishop eagerly watching White Heat and quoting Scarface. Samuel L Jackson appears a couple of times as store owner Trip but is criminally underused; honestly it wouldn't make much difference if his character never existed. Also in similar roles are Dr Dre, Ed Lover, Fab Five Freddie, Treach, EPMD, Special Ed and Queen Latifah, the latter of whom at least injects her role with some swagger. That being said, it has made for a fucking corking soundtrack. I'm glad I've found out how good Tupac could be and I'm definitely going to be watching more of his work in the future but Christ the directors aren't making it easy for me.
RAPPERS IN FILM
Showing posts with label Tupac Shakur. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tupac Shakur. Show all posts
Tuesday, 4 March 2014
Saturday, 1 March 2014
Stacked actors, stacked to the rafters. Line up the bastards, all I want is the truth.
Gridlock’d
Vondie Curtis-Hall 1997 USA
Starring: Tupac Shakur, Tim Roth, Thandie Newton, Lucy Liu, Bokeem Woodbine
Earlier this week I pitched an idea on my Facebook account for a series of mini-projects on here based around particular actors, with an aim to both get to see more of their work and end up with a 'what to watch' list for each one. Having realised recently that I hadn't actually seen much of either my first choices were Peter O'Toole and Richard Burton, although I also considered the Indian actress Aishwarya Rai as I think her journey from being hired due to her Miss World win to becoming one of the best and most reliable actresses in all of Bollywood would be really interesting to investigate. Before I started though I thought I'd ask if there were any requests; responses were varied. One person, for example, suggested Nicolas Cage and was swiftly told to sit in the corner and think about what they'd done but another proposed a search for good films starring rappers, or at least good performances from rappers. As the most unique and slightly bizarre idea offered it was one I couldn't help but take up; my only proviso being that the most obviously shit films would be discounted and his, that Will Smith and Marky Mark Wahlberg would still be considered even if their contributions to either field are pretty questionable. After doing a little research Vondie Curtis-Hall's Gridlock'd seemed like as good a place to start as any, the thought of Tupac Shakur, Tim Roth and Thandie Newton as a heroin-addicted jazz band whose attempts to get clean are destroyed by pointless governmental bureaucracy far more appealing than Snoop Dogg as Huggy Bear. I was wrong, this is an awful film. To be fair to Shakur though he is the best part of it (aside from Newton's singing that is), his Spoon imbued with a level-headed everyman sympathy, at least at the start. By the end (in the best scene of the film) he's begging Roth's hopeless, unpleasant Stretch to stab him in the vain hope that if he's admitted to hospital the authorities will have to relent and help him get clean. It's a genuinely upsetting moment but one that's almost played for comedy regardless. The main problem is writer/director/actor Hall, here juggling three hats even though he's barely competent with one. As a writer he seems unsure whether his script is a social satire or a dumb crime caper, souring what could be a disturbing drama about the lack of help afforded addicts with a hackneyed sub-plot featuring Spoon and Stretch being pursued by a gangster they've crossed earlier in the film. At one point he even has the pair stumble across the bodies of their dealers, one of whom is a pregnant woman played by an astonishingly wooden Lucy Liu, and, although initially shocked, they soon sit at the table, crack wise and shoot up, the blood and brain matter up the walls apparently of little concern. The few good moments, like having a political commentator on TV announcing a debate called "America: Love it or get the hell out" or the tense discussion of race and why Stretch thinks he's black, are entertaining but really nothing that hasn't been done better before. As a director meanwhile he's heavy-handed with every flashback (and there are a lot) signalled by a couple of seconds of blue light just so we get the message. By the time he turns up as clichéd wank-fantasy gangster D-Reper he's playing Curtis Mayfield's Super Fly on the soundtrack, referencing the Blaxploitation film of the same name, apparently either unaware of its controversial glorification of drug-dealers or glorying in it for his amusement. It's such a shame because Hall's premise is fascinating and original and, if it had been handed over to a better director and tweaked, it could have made for a far superior film. Still, it's not the worst thing he's done in his career - he also directed the Mariah Carey-starring disaster Glitter, a crime for which he should be punched to the ground and banned from the occupation for life.
RAPPERS IN FILM
Vondie Curtis-Hall 1997 USA
Starring: Tupac Shakur, Tim Roth, Thandie Newton, Lucy Liu, Bokeem Woodbine
Earlier this week I pitched an idea on my Facebook account for a series of mini-projects on here based around particular actors, with an aim to both get to see more of their work and end up with a 'what to watch' list for each one. Having realised recently that I hadn't actually seen much of either my first choices were Peter O'Toole and Richard Burton, although I also considered the Indian actress Aishwarya Rai as I think her journey from being hired due to her Miss World win to becoming one of the best and most reliable actresses in all of Bollywood would be really interesting to investigate. Before I started though I thought I'd ask if there were any requests; responses were varied. One person, for example, suggested Nicolas Cage and was swiftly told to sit in the corner and think about what they'd done but another proposed a search for good films starring rappers, or at least good performances from rappers. As the most unique and slightly bizarre idea offered it was one I couldn't help but take up; my only proviso being that the most obviously shit films would be discounted and his, that Will Smith and Marky Mark Wahlberg would still be considered even if their contributions to either field are pretty questionable. After doing a little research Vondie Curtis-Hall's Gridlock'd seemed like as good a place to start as any, the thought of Tupac Shakur, Tim Roth and Thandie Newton as a heroin-addicted jazz band whose attempts to get clean are destroyed by pointless governmental bureaucracy far more appealing than Snoop Dogg as Huggy Bear. I was wrong, this is an awful film. To be fair to Shakur though he is the best part of it (aside from Newton's singing that is), his Spoon imbued with a level-headed everyman sympathy, at least at the start. By the end (in the best scene of the film) he's begging Roth's hopeless, unpleasant Stretch to stab him in the vain hope that if he's admitted to hospital the authorities will have to relent and help him get clean. It's a genuinely upsetting moment but one that's almost played for comedy regardless. The main problem is writer/director/actor Hall, here juggling three hats even though he's barely competent with one. As a writer he seems unsure whether his script is a social satire or a dumb crime caper, souring what could be a disturbing drama about the lack of help afforded addicts with a hackneyed sub-plot featuring Spoon and Stretch being pursued by a gangster they've crossed earlier in the film. At one point he even has the pair stumble across the bodies of their dealers, one of whom is a pregnant woman played by an astonishingly wooden Lucy Liu, and, although initially shocked, they soon sit at the table, crack wise and shoot up, the blood and brain matter up the walls apparently of little concern. The few good moments, like having a political commentator on TV announcing a debate called "America: Love it or get the hell out" or the tense discussion of race and why Stretch thinks he's black, are entertaining but really nothing that hasn't been done better before. As a director meanwhile he's heavy-handed with every flashback (and there are a lot) signalled by a couple of seconds of blue light just so we get the message. By the time he turns up as clichéd wank-fantasy gangster D-Reper he's playing Curtis Mayfield's Super Fly on the soundtrack, referencing the Blaxploitation film of the same name, apparently either unaware of its controversial glorification of drug-dealers or glorying in it for his amusement. It's such a shame because Hall's premise is fascinating and original and, if it had been handed over to a better director and tweaked, it could have made for a far superior film. Still, it's not the worst thing he's done in his career - he also directed the Mariah Carey-starring disaster Glitter, a crime for which he should be punched to the ground and banned from the occupation for life.
RAPPERS IN FILM
Labels:
bureaucracy,
drugs,
Gridlock'd,
jazz,
Lucy Liu,
music,
rappers,
Thandie Newton,
Tim Roth,
Tupac Shakur,
Vondie Curtis-Hall
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