Movie Review Black Los Angeles

BlackNLA Movie Reviews

*****THE REEL DEAL: Reviewz from the Street*****

by Edwardo Jackson

BIASES: 30 (yikes!) year old black male; frustrated screenwriter who favors action, comedy, and glossy, big budget movies over indie flicks, kiddie flicks, and weepy Merchant Ivory fare

DIRTY (R)

MOVIE BIASES: Finally, Cuba's left those dogs (of a movie) alone.

MAJOR PLAYERS: Cuba Gooding Jr. (Snow Dogs), Clifton Collins Jr. (Capote), Cole Hauser (Paparazzi), and co-writer/director Chris Fisher (Nightstalker)

I'm a busy dude. I lead a diverse, action-packed life where two hours is precious real estate on my personal agenda. Squatting on that land the other night like the world's filthiest wino is a bum I like to call "Dirty."

"I loved being a gangster. I loved my barrio. Maybe that's why I became a cop." So quoth Officer Armando Sancho (Collins) at the beginning of one helluva LA day. Greeted at his front door by Internal Affairs to rat out his partner Salim (Gooding) for having killed an innocent bystander in cold blood, Sancho hurtles through a work day that finds him being propositioned by Captain Spain (Keith David) and his Lieutenant (Hauser) to undertake an illegal drug operation that puts their jobs, and very lives, at risk.

Like a kid fresh out of film school, Chris Fisher directs this embarrassing, mish-mash of an affair with the attention span of a bachelor at the Playboy Mansion. Overly stylized, Fisher's jittery lens is eager to make the camera do everything but roll over and play dead; a whole lot of sizzle but not enough steak. This flick can't
stay still, cut like the editor was on an IV of crystal meth and Red Bull. Accessory to this crime is a confusing (no, not "complex") script co-written by Fisher that's overstuffed with generic gritty dialogue ("One felon a day is all you need to do," instructs one of Sancho's superiors). Owing its roots to the drama-rife scandal of
LAPD's infamously corrupt Rampart Division, Fisher's "Dirty," for the most part, abuses a normally talented, underused multi-culti cast (Judy Reyes, Keith David, Brian White, et. al.) with gimmicks and stunts like a curiously subtitled Wyclef (who's speaking perfectly understandable, patois-tinged English) and a totally belabored ghost motif that haunts the tortured Sancho. Uh huh. Fisher even trots out the old thriller movie trope of Russian Roulette which, despite its inherent clichÃ©d-ness, actually works to a degree, but only because the music drums up the suspense where the director cannot.

What also fail this film, sadly enough, are its lead characters. Through only some fault of their own, not for a nanosecond did I believe the script's demands that Collins and Gooding's characters are, or were ever, best friends - no matter how many times they insist they are. Gooding's whiny-voiced, morality-free, dumb-to-a-fault loyal Salim is loud, obnoxious, confrontational, racist ("I hate white people!" Um, good for you. PIG.), obvious - he's your uncle-in-law at Christmas after too much spiked egg nog, not a best friend. Especially not to Collins' aggressively internal, conflicted Sancho, a role that, in the hands of better direction, would have been gripping and compelling. But Fisher moves around like the B Camera on "TRL" so you're whipped right out of scenes before you even get a chance to care about him (or anyone else). FRUSTRATING.

This is the kind of film where they curse a blue streak and shoot off people's hands in a vain, visually grimy campaign that turns into shock and yawn. I'm hardly a C. Delores Tucker type (R.I.P.): some of my favorite movies include "Boyz N the Hood," "Menace 2 Society," "Training Day," etc. If anything, I'm a social libertarian. Do what you want so long as it doesn't hurt anybody else. But the gratuitous,
artistically bankrupt use of the N-word not only rings false but also borders on socially irresponsible. It didn't make me believe more - hell, at all - that Cuba is supposed to be this semi-reformed banger in blue. If anything, I was embarrassed by him and for him - the very definition of miscast. I don't need or even want my characters to be "likable" or "socially responsible" - I just want them to be good and
make sense. When Gooding's Salim condescends to our intelligence by literally spouting the same racial catchphrase immortalized in a much better (and Oscar-winning) performance by Denzel, I mentally checked out of the movie, wishing I was home so I could pop in "Training Day" instead of being stuck with this Yves St. Laurent knock-off.

But there is something far scarier at work here. If the 48 votes (and counting) on IMDB.com are correct, then an overwhelming majority believe that this movie is some sort of indie, hood flick achievement. "Variety's" glowing review perplexes, nay, troubles me even more. When critical (particularly Caucasian) acclaim rises for a movie like this, that's where the social irresponsibility of the film comes in. There
are white folk who will believe that we (us po' colored folk - Latino AND black) actually talk and think like this. Or that our cops of color act and think like this. I get that this is a fictionalization of the Rampart mess, a stunning exposÃ© of minority authority run amuck. I get that there ARE some people out there, maybe even cops, who do think and act like this. But what I don't get, what doesn't fly
right with a brotha, is that the world outside our community will mistake this hot garbage for art. Trust me, art it is not. Art has context, creativity, originality and, above all, TRUTH. The truth ain't always pretty, nor do I want it to be. But if this is Fisher's subjective truth, then lie to me, baby. Lie. To. ME.

To quote a friend of mine, "Your perception cannot change my reality." Unfortunately, Fisher's perception can't give me my two hours back, either.

@ REEL
(ONE REEL)
If you can't sneak in, don't go in.

Like what you read? Agree/disagree with The Reel Deal? Think he's talkin' out his...HUSH YO' MOUF! (I'm only talkin' about The Reel Deal!) Email him at ReelReviewz@aol.com!

Edwardo Jackson is the author of the novels EVER AFTER and NEVA HAFTA, (Villard/Random House), a writer for UrbanFilmPremiere.com, and an LA-based screenwriter. Visit his website at www.edwardojackson.com




			BlackNLA Movie Reviews ***THE REEL DEAL: Reviewz from the Street*** by Edwardo Jackson BIASES: 30 (yikes!) year old black male; frustrated screenwriter who favors action, comedy, and glossy, big budget movies over indie flicks, kiddie flicks, and weepy Merchant Ivory fare DIRTY (R) MOVIE BIASES: Finally, Cuba's left those dogs (of a movie) alone. MAJOR PLAYERS: Cuba Gooding Jr. (Snow Dogs), Clifton Collins Jr. (Capote), Cole Hauser (Paparazzi), and co-writer/director Chris Fisher (Nightstalker) I'm a busy dude. I lead a diverse, action-packed life where two hours is precious real estate on my personal agenda. Squatting on that land the other night like the world's filthiest wino is a bum I like to call "Dirty." "I loved being a gangster. I loved my barrio. Maybe that's why I became a cop." So quoth Officer Armando Sancho (Collins) at the beginning of one helluva LA day. Greeted at his front door by Internal Affairs to rat out his partner Salim (Gooding) for having killed an innocent bystander in cold blood, Sancho hurtles through a work day that finds him being propositioned by Captain Spain (Keith David) and his Lieutenant (Hauser) to undertake an illegal drug operation that puts their jobs, and very lives, at risk. Like a kid fresh out of film school, Chris Fisher directs this embarrassing, mish-mash of an affair with the attention span of a bachelor at the Playboy Mansion. Overly stylized, Fisher's jittery lens is eager to make the camera do everything but roll over and play dead; a whole lot of sizzle but not enough steak. This flick can't stay still, cut like the editor was on an IV of crystal meth and Red Bull. Accessory to this crime is a confusing (no, not "complex") script co-written by Fisher that's overstuffed with generic gritty dialogue ("One felon a day is all you need to do," instructs one of Sancho's superiors). Owing its roots to the drama-rife scandal of LAPD's infamously corrupt Rampart Division, Fisher's "Dirty," for the most part, abuses a normally talented, underused multi-culti cast (Judy Reyes, Keith David, Brian White, et. al.) with gimmicks and stunts like a curiously subtitled Wyclef (who's speaking perfectly understandable, patois-tinged English) and a totally belabored ghost motif that haunts the tortured Sancho. Uh huh. Fisher even trots out the old thriller movie trope of Russian Roulette which, despite its inherent clichÃ©d-ness, actually works to a degree, but only because the music drums up the suspense where the director cannot. What also fail this film, sadly enough, are its lead characters. Through only some fault of their own, not for a nanosecond did I believe the script's demands that Collins and Gooding's characters are, or were ever, best friends - no matter how many times they insist they are. Gooding's whiny-voiced, morality-free, dumb-to-a-fault loyal Salim is loud, obnoxious, confrontational, racist ("I hate white people!" Um, good for you. PIG.), obvious - he's your uncle-in-law at Christmas after too much spiked egg nog, not a best friend. Especially not to Collins' aggressively internal, conflicted Sancho, a role that, in the hands of better direction, would have been gripping and compelling. But Fisher moves around like the B Camera on "TRL" so you're whipped right out of scenes before you even get a chance to care about him (or anyone else). FRUSTRATING. This is the kind of film where they curse a blue streak and shoot off people's hands in a vain, visually grimy campaign that turns into shock and yawn. I'm hardly a C. Delores Tucker type (R.I.P.): some of my favorite movies include "Boyz N the Hood," "Menace 2 Society," "Training Day," etc. If anything, I'm a social libertarian. Do what you want so long as it doesn't hurt anybody else. But the gratuitous, artistically bankrupt use of the N-word not only rings false but also borders on socially irresponsible. It didn't make me believe more - hell, at all - that Cuba is supposed to be this semi-reformed banger in blue. If anything, I was embarrassed by him and for him - the very definition of miscast. I don't need or even want my characters to be "likable" or "socially responsible" - I just want them to be good and make sense. When Gooding's Salim condescends to our intelligence by literally spouting the same racial catchphrase immortalized in a much better (and Oscar-winning) performance by Denzel, I mentally checked out of the movie, wishing I was home so I could pop in "Training Day" instead of being stuck with this Yves St. Laurent knock-off. But there is something far scarier at work here. If the 48 votes (and counting) on IMDB.com are correct, then an overwhelming majority believe that this movie is some sort of indie, hood flick achievement. "Variety's" glowing review perplexes, nay, troubles me even more. When critical (particularly Caucasian) acclaim rises for a movie like this, that's where the social irresponsibility of the film comes in. There are white folk who will believe that we (us po' colored folk - Latino AND black) actually talk and think like this. Or that our cops of color act and think like this. I get that this is a fictionalization of the Rampart mess, a stunning exposÃ© of minority authority run amuck. I get that there ARE some people out there, maybe even cops, who do think and act like this. But what I don't get, what doesn't fly right with a brotha, is that the world outside our community will mistake this hot garbage for art. Trust me, art it is not. Art has context, creativity, originality and, above all, TRUTH. The truth ain't always pretty, nor do I want it to be. But if this is Fisher's subjective truth, then lie to me, baby. Lie. To. ME. To quote a friend of mine, "Your perception cannot change my reality." Unfortunately, Fisher's perception can't give me my two hours back, either. @ REEL (ONE REEL) If you can't sneak in, don't go in. Like what you read? Agree/disagree with The Reel Deal? Think he's talkin' out his...HUSH YO' MOUF! (I'm only talkin' about The Reel Deal!) Email him at ReelReviewz@aol.com! Edwardo Jackson is the author of the novels EVER AFTER and NEVA HAFTA, (Villard/Random House), a writer for UrbanFilmPremiere.com, and an LA-based screenwriter. Visit his website at www.edwardojackson.com Â© 2004, Edwardo Jackson