Wednesday, September 9, 2015

16 Reasons Why I Love "Dope"


In this moment, I’m searching for the words to describe how much I loved Dope. This movie was incredible. Like absolutely amazing. Oh my goodness! If you couldn’t already tell, I’m one of those people who analyze movies. Sometimes I even annoy myself doing it. Here’s how I know that Dope was a great film—I just watched it. I actually sat and enjoyed the movie, but was still left thinking when it was over. That, my friends is the mark of artistry.

 I’d also like to give you a low-key spoiler alert; by no means does reading this mean that you shouldn’t see the movie. PLEASE SEE THE MOVIE! 

So, here are 14 reasons why Dope was dope. Gee whiz, I’m so punny:

1. Direct social commentary


A criticism that I have of a lot of Black films is their failure to be corrective. However, by the end of Dope it was pretty clear that writer and director Rick Famuyiwa finds stereotypes to be shallow and confining and that we should too. I think that he was saying that there is some truth to these stereotypes, but they should not limit our view of people. Furthermore, we should look more closely at the reasons that these categories exist. If you missed that after seeing the film, you may want to hit up Starbucks for some caffeine, because he does a great job of making his point clear. 

2. The humor

I’m more of a smile-and-nod person than a laugh-out-loud person when I’m watching movies. So, the fact that I was audibly laughing through this entire film says a lot. This style of satirical humor was right up my alley. “It’s funny ‘cause it’s true."

3. It Was Relatable


I’m a church girl from the middle of Kansas. The absolute last thing that I know anything about are drugs, let alone how to sell them. The thing is, that Malcolm had no idea either. That in and of itself rejects stereotypes and connects misunderstood Black people to the story…but that’s number 12. Malcolm’s quirky vulnerability made me feel like he got me. He met me exactly where I am. His ability to overcome some ridiculous challenges made me feel like I could too.  Famuyiwa took extremely relatable things like black nerdiness and college acceptance and turned them on their head. So even though I can’t tell you about kilos and “Lily” and what not, I could totally identify with spending your whole life just trying to be you, but being bogged down by clichés and expectations that seek to confine me to the world’s definition of my race. That combined with a wild series of events made for an exceptionally relatable and entertaining story. 

 4. Shameik Moore


Michael B. Jordan, I’m afraid that you may have some competition in having the imaginary key to my heart.  Shameik. Moore.  We can talk about the fade…or the smile…but if you’ve seen the movie, that’s old news. In the realm of celebrities, talent is what really puts them on my list. I love how he was able to play an outsider without ever seeming pitiful. He was the dashing and triumphant underdog without ever seeming cliché. If we’re talking specifics, he does this thing where his lips quiver when Malcolm is trying to keep a straight face. The little touches that actors add that make us forget that they’re playing a character is what makes me notice them. He was so perfect in this role that I can’t decide who I like more, Shameik Moore or Malcolm Adekanbi. Excuse me while I search for posters for my bedroom wall. 

5. John Hughes and Spike Lee

I am in the process of finishing some Spike Lee classics. I also happen to be a huge John Hughes fan. I would like to take this time to personally apologize to my family for all of the times that I made you watch Pretty in Pink. Before seeing this film, I saw Dope described as John Hughes meets Spike Lee, so it was definitely something that I had to see. I think that it delivered on those promises. Dope was very Spike Lee because it was in-your-face and heavily satirical. The coming of age narrative and the snowballing series of events reflected John Hughes. 

6. References to The Wood


I’m watching the beginning of this film and I can’t help thinking “the guy who plays that security guard looks super familiar.” Then I realized that Rick Famuyiwa worked Stacy from The Wood into a second screenplay. It was a nostalgic nod to his 1999 film, also about highs and lows of life in Inglewood. I can’t even count the number of times that I’ve seen The Wood. I couldn’t help but feel like I’d want to see Dope that many times, too. 

7. Their Wardrobe


For the first couple of minutes of the film, I thought that this story was taking place in the 90’s because of how they dressed. However, I realized that the film was making a bit of a joke about how millennial teenagers are obsessed with a decade that we never really experienced. Alluding to The Wood again, Malcolm, Jib, and Diggy’s wardrobe is basically what Mike, Slim, and Roland were trying to achieve. It’s a throwback while still being current and fly. Fresh to death. Does that sound nineties enough?

8. The “Find My iPhone” Bit

I called this a low-key spoiler, so I won’t go into detail in case you haven’t seen it. But just consider what would happen if “thugs” had to rely on GPS. Just watch the film. I promise this won’t disappoint. 

9. It Was Light-Hearted


I appreciate that Famuyiwa gives the audience numerous opportunities to get a glimpse into the joy and universality of Black life. That’s corrective, too. There’s work to be done, but we’re not always sad. 

10. The Essay

At the end of the film, Malcolm basically writes the college admissions essay that I wish I had written. It’s fiery. It’s intelligent. It’s creative. I think that this was a really smart way of driving the point of the film home. We don’t question White quirkiness the same way that we question Black quirkiness. It’s probably an issue in and of itself that we have to give terminology to the diversity of interests. In a lot of other cases, I might have found this essay too explicit. However, I think that it works here because the film already spins reality on its head. 

11. Zoe Kravitz


As much as I want to find a deeply artistic reason for loving Zoe Kravitz, it basically boils down to the fact that she’s just so darn cool. As the daughter of Lisa Bonet and Lenny Kravitz it’s in her genes, right? Her effortless beauty was also present in her performance as Nakia. To all of you out there who weren’t pleased that the love interest was once again a light-skinned woman, I hear you. But she’s still pretty atypical for Hollywood, so I wasn’t particularly bothered with the casting. Especially after seeing Dope, I kind of want to see everything that she’s is in…

12. The Play on Stereotypes

Rick Famuyiwa creates a world where everyone in it is a stereotype of sorts. The clichés are colorful, direct, and clearly recognizable. Artistry comes into play when Famuyiwa turns all of those stereotypes on their heads. Because we are familiar with these types of people, their unexpected characteristics are both poignant and funny. See, the villain here is stereotypes. This is evident through the film’s plot. Malcolm embraces them and then defies them all. To those that like to think of Black people as monolithic: you can box us into stereotypes all you want. That doesn’t stop us from being who we are. 

13. The Cute Ending


Excuse me while I embrace my inner tween. The ending of this film was absolutely adorable. Malcolm got what he wanted without losing himself. Can this couple please be a real-life thing?

14. The Soundtrack. 


This movie had everything from Public Enemy to Gil Scott-Heron. My favorite tracks were those by Awreeoh, Malcolm’s band in the movie. They were described at one point as punk, however I think the group’s sound was more of a fusion between a number of styles, mainly rock and hip-hop. “Can’t Bring Me Down” is the film’s anthem and my next download. 


15. The N-Word Section

So this movie does a great job of dealing with the gravity and awkwardness of the use of the n-word. Both Black people and White people had the opportunity to get a glimpse into what the other might be thinking about this word. It was a pretty hilarious scene, but still didn’t let the audience off the hook. It was entertaining while still being thought provoking. That, my friends, is the mark of well-executed satire. 


16. Malcolm’s Transformation



At the end of the film, I felt like I looked up and Malcolm had transformed. It’s not that it was an unmotivated transformation. It’s that his metamorphoses was so deeply intertwined in the action of the screenplay that I never had to separate the two. Furthermore, he became a better version of himself, not some new man. Instead of at the beginning, the self-doubt came in the middle. Through this construction, the film basically says that Malcolm was uniquely awesome and will continue to be that way. Blackness is what we decide it is. When we turn a deaf ear to stereotypes perpetuated by systems of White supremacy and embrace our power to define our melanin, we become unstoppable.


Saturday, September 5, 2015

Existing in Love (Half of a Yellow Sun, 2013)


Anika Noni Rose. Chiwetel Ejiofor. Thandie Newton. That’s all I had to see to decide to press play on Half of a Yellow Sun. The film is a poetic and insightful nod to Nigeria, the 1960’s civil-war-torn country in which this film takes place. Although it wasn’t always easy to watch, this movie was definitely worth seeing.

The first half of the film seemed to simply be a series of incidents. Yes, there was conflict, but it never seemed like the action was moving toward any sort of climax. I liked that. I know that goes against fundamental principles of drama, but I really appreciated the simplicity. The plot was a steady undulation of, well, life. Terrible things did happen in this film. Although those things beat upon the characters, they didn’t stop the plot; a film centered on tragedy was not about tragedy. I think that sometimes we like defining people and their lives by their circumstances. This film forced you to look beyond what was happening to people so that you could actually see people. Through those people we were able to experience love in an unconventional way. I think that this idea is especially important in discussing a film that takes place on the African continent. For so long, society has tried to define Africans and people of color by negative circumstances often a result of systems of white supremacy. The characters were not just the effect of a tragic cause, but catalysts within their own lives. 


Love is something that most people want to see on screen. It’s a magnetic fantasy that we all have had in some way or another. Why else do super spies need romantic interests? Love is relatable. So when I saw this film on Netflix I was so hype. I was expecting this movie to be pleasantly corny. You know, girl meets boy, girl falls in love with boy, blah, blah blah. Netflix described it as something to the effect of a love story against the backdrop of war.  I thought that I could focus on the love part and let war be an afterthought. I could be entertained like the thirteen-year-old girl that I secretly am while still being down for the Pan-African cause. Half of a Yellow Sun didn’t let me off so easily. It let me marvel at African intelligence, beauty, and culture while making the characters extremely relatable while simultaneously forcing me to confront hardship.

Half of a Yellow Sun didn’t give us love on a silver Rom-Com platter. However it also didn’t present love in a way so obscure that most people couldn’t understand. We do not see people falling in love, just existing within it. The plot moved steadily along and then boom. War. But war wasn’t the plot. Struggle wasn’t the plot. Love was the plot. And yet still this film wasn’t really romantic. This film played on my girly tendencies—I was looking for love to make me smiley and comfortable. Instead this movie used love to create a way for me to better understand their struggle. I’ve never experienced war, so I don’t think that it is my place to make a generalization based on a film. However, within the context of this movie, love is bigger than violence.



All in all, this film made me say “Yas”, “Preach”, and “Wow.” I promise I have more exclamations in my vocabulary but “yippee” didn’t really seem to fit. I say “Yas” because we saw Black intelligentsia in action, “preach" because when life crumbles before our eyes, there’s still hope even in the darkest situations, and “wow" because even though I’ve never personally experienced war, it felt more close, scary, and uncomfortable than I expected for a film. It built me up then tore me down. I wouldn’t say that this film is perfect, but it did the work that it needed to do. It defied stereotypes, fantasies, and twisted imaginations. The story was captivating because I felt like I was moving with the characters through life instead of viewing their story on a screen. Plus I really loved the costumes.  Half of a Yellow Sun is a simple yet rich love letter to Nigeria. To all of my brothers and sisters for whom war is too familiar, I see you.  

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

I Hate To Be That Guy, But...(Straight Outta Compton, 2015)


*Walks into movie theater* 
*Sits down and watches previews*
*Realizes she’s in the wrong theater*
*Runs*

Fortunately, though, I made it and was finally able to see the film that everyone’s been raving about, Straight Outta Compton. This movie was absolutely worth seeing, but also worth some thought. 


From the jump we knew that this film was going to be political. The juxtaposition of painfully gritty life in the streets with colorful music was beautiful. These two ideas illuminated each other. This was best seen through the pairing of the first two scenes. The well-constructed sequencing of the beginning scenes really showcased the political power, need and potential of music.

As we we enter into the world of the conception of N.W.A. we hear the voice of President Reagan, speaking about the war on drugs. His voice seemed so distant compared to the close relationship that audience members are able to build with the story’s characters over the course of the movie. Like drug raid tanks on dark California streets, it had no place. There was a distinct sense of falsehood that told us exactly how the film’s writers and subjects felt about the world around them. Place that next to a sweet and colorful picture of Dr. Dre listening to old school records in his bedroom and there you have a vivid image of hip-hop. Reality paired with hope, the past holding hands with the present, and the good harmonizing with the bad. That right there is what art, especially Black art, should do--reveal, reminisce, and challenge. Here, we saw sampling at it’s finest. 

There are remnants of this aesthetic throughout the film. Of course, the soundtrack helped to support that. A lot of this film felt almost like a music video. I think that emphasizes the idea that art must imitate life. Again, N.W.A.’s ability to turn harsh reality into timeless and memorable music was mirrored; what we were seeing through this musical cinematography, for the most part, was unglamorous, artful, and in-your-face. 

There was a hint of cliché biopic in the mix. You know, brilliant Black group gets played by a White manager (who happened to be Paul Giamatti. Like what? Why?) But this film cannot be reduced to a simple replaying of history because it provided social commentary. Straight Outta Compton made drug related crimes, poverty, police brutality, and HIV/AIDs all feel very personal and relevant. These were all hot-topics in the 90’s, but they still plague our communities today.



We can praise N.W.A. for their artistic excellence and the political power of their voice, but I think that we’re presenting double standards if we talk about certain things and not others. You can’t be selectively “conscious.” Yes, N.WA. did great things, but I would have liked to see a tad bit more remorse for the things that they did wrong. You don’t have to rewrite history, but you also don’t have to glorify it. For people who seem to constantly see into the hearts of angry, broken, and fed-up Americans, they seem to have conveniently turned a blind eye to their own wrongs. It just doesn’t set right with me that the people who are making a cinematic critique about disrespect towards Black bodies are the same people disrespecting female bodies. I didn’t mean to stand on my pulpit or soapbox, but I’m here now so…

What bothered me more is that there were times when this film did exactly what it seemed to be arguing against. There was a moment when Dr. Dre was DJ-ing at a club and the owner explained that people didn’t want to hear the hard, raw truth, but instead something that they can party to. N.W.A. really challenged that notion in the film and in real life. History shows that they were successful. However through the film version of their lives, it seemed more like they were aiming to please than to change. It’s Hollywood; I get it. You’ve gotta pay your bills and make audiences happy, but dang. But did half of the film really have to be a comedy?

You have poignant lyrics, the Rodney King case and the War on Drugs as a backdrop, and a hungry audience. Yet you choose to let us giggle? I think that this film could have been forty times better if they didn’t let the audience rest so much. Granted, the moments of comedic relief were well-constructed and actually funny, but it seemed like they took the easy way out. Showing happiness among African-Americans does do some corrective work, but that wasn’t what I wanted from this film.



In this moment, we need art to grab hold of us and not let us go until something in our hearts has changed. Straight Outta Compton was good and all, but if you weren’t looking for your thinking to be transformed or at least shifted, it wasn’t going to happen. It was great for audiences comprised of the oppressed, but I don’t think that it did enough to check the oppressors. You will have definitely learned something about life in the hood and maybe even feel bad about the unfair treatment of citizens of color, but I didn’t feel forced to do something about it. Watered-down is the antithesis of who N.W.A. is, yet that is how they allowed themselves to be presented. You can act as hard as you want, but unless you’re doing something to actually make a change, an act is all it is. I just wanted more from a group who pioneered for urban voices. With the countless recent cases of police violence and brutality against Black people, this film could not have come at a better time.  However, the intense parallelism presented an opportunity that was not fully realized. 

I appreciate the fact that this film did make a point of discussing police brutality, but those moments could have been stronger. There was just too much exposition. I am glad that they made distain for unjust police treatment evident, but the characters didn’t really need to say lines outlining exactly why their arrests and searches were wrongful. We can see that. Let the movie and the music say that. Seeing something wrong, coming to our own conclusion, and then having that confirmed would have been a better formula. I know, I know. I can’t have my cake and eat it, too. But hey, this is my blog. Red velvet, anyone?





I feel like that teacher who tells you that they graded you more harshly than the other students because they expect more from you. That teacher never really dislikes your work and is probably quite fond of you. They just want you to step it up because they know that you can. That’s how I feel about Straight Outta Compton. I really enjoyed seeing it and absolutely loved parts of the film. Believe me, I really did and would watch it again. I just wanted more.