Code Orange Alert #38559: State Property & All About the Benjamins
Sitting in Jail gives me time to reflect on all the movies I've seen this week, and the joy that is life, in general. I guess I shouldn't have taken that gold-plated lawnmower blade to those Emo kids singing on my stoop. Can you really blame me? Those whiney crotchmonks were harmonizing "One Armed Scissor" in a March Christmas Carol that came too late. I couldn't take it. I'm just glad I got a chance to see Ice Cube's new action-thriller before being thrown in Lockdown. If you think Movieweb's going to post bail, you got another thing coming. I'm lucky if I get the occasional cheese sandwich and cup of orange flavored water. At the very least, County provides these things for free. Yes, rotting in this grey, closed-in flat feels better than being on the outside. All I have to do is close my eyes and vividly recall the better moments of Kevin Bray's Benjamins. (Of course, the fact that I pronounce it "Bend-germans" has already gotten me beat-up twice in this joint. I swear, if another "uptown brotha" calls me Bill Gates or Potsie, I'm going to tear into gut-flesh with my lower jaw and chew out his abdomen.)
I would have thought New Line blew their creative load with Lord of the Rings. But no, they're coming up as the sole sure-shot in this whole count-by-numbers scheme which seems to be running the movie business. As of late, New Line is the only studio that excels at pushing out a constant stream of hits. And even their screechingly horrible films, like I am Sam and John Q., are never boring. They've got Blade 2, Jason X, and the Two Towers headed our way: All exceedingly fun flicks guaranteed to flush bucks and, on top of that, simultaneously squeeze forth some much needed smiles. How often do these two things happen at once in this town? Not very; and their new film is no exception.
Ice Cube continues to suppress his music-industry peers by delivering the goods. Unlike fellow rap practitioners, we seldom see Cube in a bad movie. He's not a master thespian by any means, but he has a persistence that can't be ignored. Add the fact that he knows how to 1) write a good script, and 2) pick a good script, and you've got diamonds in the bank every time he jumps forth with another hit.
After last year's dismal showcasing of Hip-Hop artists in film, one might not have much hope for All About the Benjamins. But Cube is more intelligent than the banal come-ups who use our multiplex as a means to showpony their face and multi-platinum soundtrack. Hell, Ice Cube doesn't even appear on this, his own soundtrack. He doesn't have time for that kind of foolishness. His motivation is to actually entertain us with what he's throwing up on that screen. And, most importantly, he knows (which is the key here Method Man, Redman, Snoop Dogg, Dre, Eminem, Mariah, Brittany, and Miss Moore) how too surround himself with "TALENT". Yes, take a good look at his resume and you'll see he's never the overbearing light of focus in the projects he chooses.
New Line, Ice Cube, and everyone else involved, including the audience, have found their winning lottery ticket in Mike Epps. He is truly the funniest thing to tumble forth since, God...It's been so long, I can't even make a comparison. Forget Chris Tucker, this guy's the real deal. Him and Cube make one Hell of a team, and let's hope they continue their run in the November release Friday After Next. Yes, All About the Benjamins is ten times the movie Rush Hour 2 was. There were people heading into this surprise treat ready to hate it from the get-go. These same people were literally on the floor, laughing. Usually, at a critics screening, these cryptic sh*tbags sit in silence, chiseling out notes in shorthand. There was no time for that here. This is one of those rare movies where you miss some of the dialogue because the audience is laughing so loud, it bleeds ears. Watching Epps run off at the mouth is a feast, and his scene in the bathroom, where he and Cube have one of their advisories handcuffed to the shower curtain rod, is worth the nine-dollar admission alone. Watch Cube's face closely, he's using hardcore restraint to keep that grimace glued to his cheeks. Anybody who can crack a genuine smile out of AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted has a true gift. Luckily, Epps is sharing it with us.
Too bad the film is going to miss-pick its audience with that lame, exceedingly vague trailer. Trust me, it doesn't sell. Not one of Benjamins' key moments is given away, nor is any detail about the plot. This could be an insult. Amazingly, the movie has an elaborate set-up, an incredible amount of fine detail in structure, and a premise that could play into three or four more sequels. We'd never guess that from the ads. Did they think intended ticket-buyers were too dumb? Was this too hard to package in two minutes? Nope. It's as if someone didn't want this movie to do well, and the only key reason to see it, based on promotion alone, would be to see Ice Cube running around with a gun. They're pushing it as another generic, crap movie of the week.
It's not.
What is the movie about? Ice Cube is a bounty hunter on the trail of Epps' character, Reggie Wright, a shoddy excuse for a convict and a horrible con man. Running from Cube's Bucum Jackson, Reggie stumbles upon a Diamond heist. He loses his wallet in the back of the bad guy's van, then later finds out that he and his girlfriend have won the lottery. Of course, the lottery ticket was in his wallet. He is soon captured by Jackson, and is faced with going to prison. Like the best in ridiculous premises, Jackson and Wright team up so: 1) Reggie can get his wallet back and recover the lost ticket (which Bucum refuses to believe in), and 2) So Jackson can capture the Diamond thieves and get the backing he needs to quit his job at Martinez Bail Bond and start his own P.I. firm.
Yes, this is a scribbled-up remake of the classic DeNiro/Gordon picture Midnight Run with hints of Double Take and Lethal Weapon, but it's served fresh with strong performances at every angle, especially from the girls Eva Mendes and Valarie Rae Miller. These two sexy kittens parlay their "background ho" caricatures into living points of breathable air, adding a much-needed balance to the normally male dominated world of the buddy picture. This is old school with chops. It might be an encyclopedia of cliches, but it's the Cube & Epps show and the plot works wonders for their wordplay. Sure, it takes core elements from a well-used genre, but the film utilizes these concepts to great benefit. It doesn't bastardize them. The premise sticks and is never tired.
I liked the breezy atmosphere; the cinematographer utilizes Miami in a colorful palate of fine framing. And there are some nice artistic touches that aren't often seen in a picture of Benjamins' lesser-than-thou scope. I especially dug the part where Ice Cube, ducking the villainous black van from the heist, is forced to leap into a roomful of balloons which float behind him once he exits, guns ablazin'. There are a ton of little nuances that kick this a notch above your average base player. And the film dodges the artificial pot humor, which has all but overtaken black cinema as of late. It's nice that they didn't have to rely on ol' reliable for laughs.
The only disappointment comes in setting up Anthony Michael Hall as a blatant racist with in-your-face aphorisms such as a confederate flag and an odd Warner Brothers cartoon that features Bugs Bunny outwitting a boo-spook pickaninny. They don't show these old illiberal serials on any TV station I know of, unless the Florida Everglades are an exception. He must be watching this off tape. It's a nice nod to a history many might not know exists (I had no idea Bugs was involved in bigotry), but Hall, ever the reemerging talent, is wasted and his character's blatant obviousness seems to be in play simply to anger our inner city viewers. The opening, as it stands, has no place in the rest of this film, except to set-up Cube's character, and this could have been accomplished in a number of less unsophisticated ways.
As of late, I've been regaling my dinner companions with tales of Ice Cube's most recent accomplishment. I've talked it up more than I've done so here. I wish I could get outside and see it again, but I'm currently looking at 7 months to life. I still haven't seen Next Friday yet. At the time of its release, I thought I was being thrown a Chris Tucker hack (if you remember, he starred in the first Friday, then ditched Cube) in Mike Epps. After watching Epps' star-making turn in All About the Benjamins, I now realize the error of my ways. A guard's going to sneak me in a copy later this week.
Now I must turn an ear to my cellmate, Beanie, who wants me to "toss a shout out" to his recently released Lions Gate film: State Property. It's a low-budget Ghetto Gangsta masterpiece that plays like the best Urban Western; yeah, a slight knockoff of the Sopranos. While sloppy with its production esthetic, State Property is an energetic, engaging look at the Ultra-Violent life of a Kingpin street dealer. Imagine Eastwood's The Unforgiven told in present day Philadelphia with drugs and hos. If you come across it (distribution is low-key), it's definitely worth a look. Me and "Beans", as he's called on the streets, hitched a community service shuttle over to the Edwards 26 to find out if the people working the theater could tell us anything about the film. The usher, a young black man in the film's intended demographic, couldn't tell us a damn thing. And the theater manager had no info in his notebook about the State Property. He declared it was "Belly with Jay-Z instead of Tiny C," or some such sh*t. It's sad when the sh*t-f*ck manger doesn't even know what he's peddling.
So, my parting words of wisdom: Sneak into one, see 'em both.
(That last paragraph was typed out with a gun against my head. "Beans" knows my work, and feared a bad review from the Orange. He told me he'd break my legs. I laughed.)
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