Hustle & Flow Movie Review:


Removed as I am from What’s Going On, the screening of “Hustle & Flow” loomed as an ordeal for me. Until a guy in the row behind defined the former as Memphis-Atlanta hip-hop, this elderly white reviewer didn’t know my crunk from my Boss Crump, nor recognize more than two cast names, one an old contemporary, the other a calculatedly ludicrous nom de chanson.

Because of the music, because many people will take a quarter-hour-to-forever to pick up on the unsubtitled filmically realistic Ebonics, and because of language, sex, and sale and use of weed, this movie will probably wind up depending on the young urban minority for an audience.

Smart money says that great numbers in one camp will decry this first commercial feature from its white director-writer as slanderous distortion of a ghetto lifestyle less uncommon than they care to admit; those of the other will avoid the film for its vocabulary and milieu. Both will have missed the point. Stripped to bare bones, Craig Brewer’s Memphis and music story is much less about rather young midlife crises --filmmaker’s and protagonist’s -- than it is a standard Ben Franklin-Horatio Alger-Dale Carnegie American exemplum of reformation-hard work-reward. Oscar Hammerstein’s “Happy Talk” dream come true is our national self-image, and if the plot is basic sweet stuff, remember that “rags-to-” has only two possible endings: “-riches” or “-rags.”

“Rocky” pales to “Raging Bull” as “8 Mile“ does to this film, not for its traditional story so much as for a thoroughly good cast highlighted by three outstanding lead performances. Swagger masks the vulnerability in all the characters, even to the overbearing ego that is successful Jaws-mouthed Skinny Black (Ludacris) and to avuncular Arnel (an Isaac Hayes shrunken far from those scowling Black Moses days).

Particularly moving is a central trio of street pimp and marijuana dealer DJay (Terrence Howard) and, from his stable of twenty-dollars-a-trick live-in ladies, young white runaway Nora (Taryn Manning) and shy, pregnant Shug (a magnificently expressive Taraji P. Henson). Existing on a one-day-ahead-of surface, they do not know their own depths. Until, that is, the chance pickup of an antiquated almost child’s Casio keyboard-synthesizer turns him to “the beat I been hearing in my head” as a way out. Fortuitously, too, he bumps into old school friend Key (Anthony Anderson), who has up to now convinced himself of churchy middle-class sound engineer happiness with straight wife Yvette (Elise Neal).

Recruiting Shelby (DJ Qualls), goofy-looking and white but a soulful astute sound-beat man, the two friends set up a poor man’s studio to record DJay’s compositions. The pimp thinks he wants only success, which will come by getting “just a shot, a chance, to have my voice heard.” But blonde braided country girl Nora is closer to it: “I want something, I don’t know what; everybody’s got something important going on in their lives.” Yvette’s conversion is too easy, Shug’s face on hearing herself sing is wonderful, as they all hop aboard the dream.

Unexpected violence -- nothing, really, by today’s blood-red norms -- leads to an all-too-familiar St. Paul Avenue handcuffing and then slammer, but no spoiler here will ruin the film. Steve James’s non-fiction “Hoop Dreams” is admired as one of the few to tell-it-like-it-is about the infinite odds against those who would escape through the entertainment of sports or music. If “Hustle & Flow” is not among those very few, it does nevertheless portray a life and a music not often done as faithfully. If, undisguised, its tale is old-fashioned yet unusually set Americana, why not? If given a chance by mainstream moviegoers, Brewer’s film will sound good vibes.



Donald Levit

After the promise of his first feature The Poor & Hungry, Brewer took five years to make this much bigger project, which maintains his sensitive, soulful filmmaking style. It's a strikingly personal story that constantly surprises us with its insights, even if it does wallow a bit in the criminal lowlife.

DJay (Howard) is a reluctant pimp and dealer in Memphis, with three hookers in his "family": sparky Nola (Manning), heavily pregnant Shug (Henson) and hothead Lex (Parker). His long-buried dreams of being a musician are sparked when he runs into old buddy Key (Anderson), also engulfed by unexpected life responsibilities. They know homeboy-made-good Skinny Black (Ludacris) is coming home soon, so they decide to get a demo tape together, with the help of a skinny white keyboardist (Qualls).

Brewer harks back to the look and tone of 1970s Blaxploitation. That it's set in the home of the blues gives the film a strong emotional essence, capturing local rhythms to examine broken dreams and the embers of hope. DJay's music is crunk, expressive Memphis rap reminiscent of Eminem (the story itself echoes 8 Mile). Although the lyrical anger and the glamorisation of crime are a bit wearing; how can we sympathise when Shug soulfully croons that "it's hard out there for a pimp"?

Fortunately the characters are strong enough to carry us along, even if we don't support everything they do. Howard shines as this complex, meaty, not altogether likeable character. We really root for him as his street hustle gives way to musical flow. Anderson and Qualls are both excellent in rare non-comical roles. And Henson and Manning hold the film's heart, opening up their characters' fragility and strength in unexpected, transparent ways. Nothing is simple about any of these people, and that fact alone makes the film worth seeing.

It's also one of those rare movies that can make us see deep within ourselves even though we're looking at people and places far removed from our own reality. Earthy humour, honest yearning, intelligent dialog, complicated relationships--even when the plot wobbles at the end, it's compelling filmmaking.

Rich Cline

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