Showing posts with label Samuel L. Jackson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Samuel L. Jackson. Show all posts

Friday, July 7, 2017

The 50 best films of 2015 / Chi-Raq / No 15

The 50 best films 

of 2015 

in the US  

No 15


Chi-Raq


Chi-Raq review: Spike Lee's urgent, angry – and very sexy – midlife masterpiece



The film-maker is back at the top of his game with this incendiary look at life in a gang-ravaged Chicago, featuring a break-out performance from Teyonah Parris – and giving Amazon Studios a terrific debut

Jordan Hoffman
Wednesday 25 November 2015 11.54 GMT
Last modified on Friday 23 June 2017 22.38 BST


Don’t come to Chi-Raq looking for a carefully articulated, plot-driven exposé into America’s gang and gun cultures. Oh, a message gets out, but this a Spike Lee joint and, as his mid-career has shown, he’s shrugged off the cloak of the “prestige film-maker” and fully embraced the more risky title of Artist. Recent projects Red Hook Summer and Da Sweet Blood of Jesus have been near-misses; “stylish” and “interesting”. With Chi-Raq, his big, go-for-broke swing finally fully connects with the ball and knocks it out of the park. While formally quite different from his more universally-respected early work, Chi-Raq has the exuberance and wit you’ll find in Do The Right Thing and Crooklyn. It’s the best film he’s made in a very long time.

It’s also working from a tried-and-true source: Aristophanes’ Lysistrata, the bawdy Greek classic in which women from warring sides refuse their husbands sex in pursuit of an armistice. Or, as it’s chanted in this version: “No Peace, No Pussy.” Chi-Raq’s urgent J’accuse at gun and gangster culture bleeds with sorrow and boils with rage, but is also lit with solutions, if only people would wake the hell up and listen. But of equal excitement to the urgency of its message is its function as a debut for a major new superstar, Teyonah Parris, a subversive mix of Hollywood bombshell and self-assured feminist; bold, intelligent, sensual and a million miles from her previously best-known role as Dawn, the secretary from the later seasons of Mad Men.

‘Bold, intelligent, sensual’ … Teyonah Parris in Chi-raq



Chi-Raq begins with a devastating overture, Nick Cannon’s Pray 4 My City, with the lyrics printed directly at the screen, impossible to ignore. “I don’t live in Chicago, I live in Chi-Raq,” it concludes, using the controversial nickname given to the city where gun deaths outnumber those in America’s foreign wars. Our sharp-dressed narrator Dolmedes (Samuel L Jackson, licking his chops at this role) explains that communities under siege aren’t a new phenomenon, and explains how previous authors wrote about such tales in rhyme.

Thus begins a mix of urban patois and iambic pentameter that, when in the hands of gifted performers such as Jackson, Nick Cannon, Wesley Snipes – and in cameos from Isiah Whitlock Jr and Dave Chappelle – is absolute dynamite. Were I to start quoting quips we’d be here all day.


Cannon plays a rapper who took the name Chi-Raq, but is also the head of one of the Spartans, as well as our hero Lysistrata’s boyfriend. His gang is in constant conflict with the Trojans, led by Cyclops (Wesley Snipes with a ruby-encrusted eyepatch). A night of fighting leaves a young girl dead from a stray bullet and Lysistrata’s house burned down. As the girl’s mother (Jennifer Hudson) grieves, Lysistrata spends the night with Miss Evans (Angela Bassett), a bookish intellectual who inspires Lysistrata to devise her unique plan to end the fighting.


The principal story consists of a number of strange, theatrical sequences. Ever since Sweet Dick Willie and his Greek Chorus sat on the corner during Do the Right Thing, Spike Lee has had operatic tendencies. With Chi-Raq he’s sprung loose, coming close to breaking the narrative for amusing skits and musical numbers. Some are just goofy, like sexed-up Parris in a form-fitting camouflage dress seducing a creaky, Civil War-obsessed general. Others, like a marvellously erotic dance routine to the Chi-Lites (which the surrounding menfolk dub Operation: Hot & Bothered) show that few have a mastery of cutting to music quite like Spike Lee when he’s on his game.


The less randy storyline involves Hudson’s grief and anger toward a community terrified of “snitching” on gang violence. In an unusual bit of casting that cries out for future think pieces, John Cusack plays the local preacher, who does a good job of running down typical left-liberal talking points in an engaging manner during the young girl’s funeral. For almost the entirety of the film, Cusack’s whiteness goes unmentioned. He describes the community’s struggles as “our” struggles, and the structural barriers put in place by government, corporations and the police represent “them”.
Is Chi-Raq preachy? Absolutely. But it is never boring. It is earnest and heartfelt and, at times, funny and very, very, very sexy. Don’t be misled: this movie is dripping in style. Even the talky bits are draped in Terrance Blanchard’s music, and those who aren’t accustomed to unique, adventuresome film-making are likely to make a sour face.

Chicagoans are already up in arms about the title. Some in the African-American community may get offended by its focus on black-on-black crime. The usual Blue Lives Matter squad may suggest it is unfair to the cops. Gay people may not like the jokes about the “down-low”, while others won’t appreciate repeated references to bitches and hos. This is ever as it should be with a big, important work. “This is an emergency!” is the first line of the movie, and it is repeated in a later chant. When the violence in the black community, both from within and from above, is this rampant, worrying about being offensive is a luxury you can’t have.

Monday, December 16, 2013

The 10 best films of 2013 No 5 / Django Unchained



The 10 best films of 2013

No 5 

Django Unchained


Our rundown of the top 10 films of 2013 continues with Quentin Tarantino's "southern", the hip, flashy revenge fantasy that dared to tackle slavery 

Henry Barnes
Monday 16 December 2013 16.17 GMT

When Django Unchained was released back in January, Spike Lee did what he does best: took umbrage. "American Slavery Was Not A Sergio Leone Spaghetti Western," the director tweeted. "It Was A Holocaust".
Lee hadn't seen the film, but he had a point. Django Unchained, Quentin Tarantino's action fantasy about a freed slave (Jamie Foxx) enacting bloody revenge on plantation owners across the southern states, does make pre-civil war America look cool. It's loaded with style, plugged into a killer soundtrack, shot with a confidence that we hadn't seen from Tarantino since Jackie Brown. The script – for which Tarantino won an Oscar – is funny, the story is exciting, the performances – particularly Christoph Waltz's turn as the dentist-cum-bounty-hunter Dr King Schultz (another Oscar) – are vital. And then, in among all the crash zooms and gunplay and snappy rejoinders, there's the devastating brutality of the slave trade.



Django Unchained is a hip, flashy film that dares to tackle the slave trade. It takes the cartoonish stereotypes of the martial arts, western and blaxploitation genres and uses them to confront a modern audience with the grey areas of contemporary racial politics. Schultz hates the slave trade, but he bought Django, and he is – make no mistake – using him. He's both emancipator and captor. He's also a wealthy, white gun-for-hire who risks his life for the cause of a former slave (for free). In that he's more unrealistic than Calvin Candie, the moustache-twirling villain (played by Leonardo DiCaprio), or Stephen (Samuel L Jackson), the "house slave" overseer at Candie's ranch. Schultz is the moral centre of the film. And he is absolute fantasy. A stab at crude fictional reparation. A symbol for a much more modern sense of white guilt.



And yet, by presenting a rare and meaningful analysis of a period that many are still too wary of talking about, Tarantino compels us to take Django Unchained seriously. The slaves wearing branks in the trader town in Mississippi, the introduction of Django's wife Broomhilda – whipped first, dragged naked from a sweatbox later: these practices happened, the images are horrifically real. And still you watch them recognising that you are experiencing an entertainment product (as all films, even Steve McQueen's sombre analysis of the same subject, 12 Years a Slave, are in part). It's this quandary that makes Django powerful: the same quandary that has made most of Tarantino's films, from the depiction of extreme violence in Reservoir Dogs to the crass racial epithets of Pulp Fiction and Jackie Brown, so startling.



A film set to a backdrop of the most inhuman of human behaviour shouldn't be fun. But Django is. It's also shocking and horrible and unwatchably grim. Tarantino makes no apologies for tackling this period of American history in his own indomitable style. In doing so he presents one way – not the wrong way – of reflecting on an atrocity that's almost incomprehensible.