I finally saw Hustle & Flow, which is nominated for two Academy Awards. Terrence Howard’s performance really is amazing, but I can’t believe that Three 6 Mafia are nominated in the category of Best Achievement in Music Written for Motion Pictures, Original Song for “It’s Hard Out Here for a Pimp”. ( Some related commentary here between me and jb.)
The film all but lauds a man who pimps and sells drugs, but offsets that by making him unsatisfied with his life and filled with a growing desire to do better. Let’s face it — the real problem with a pimp is not that he is involved in prostitution, it’s that he’s a parasite. The women really don’t need him, but he takes his cut and pushes them around. Honestly, the glorification of pimps in the world of rap is truly distressing.
But for a while the movie’s portrayal doesn’t shy aware from DJay’s unpleasant aspects. And he seems truly motivated to rise above. But then Hustle & Flow cheats. There is the scene where DJay directs Nola to put her hands on the steering wheel with him and tells her that she is in charge.
It means we in charge. It means we got our hands on the wheel. We in charge. Not them tricks out there, man. We in charge. I wanna hear you say it… so I can believe in you the same way you believe in me.
All fine and well, but if she should choose not to trick any more, well…
Key’s wife Yvette is treated as an outcast for not supporting her husband, but she might have some legitimate complaints about the fact that her husband is hanging out with a criminal all day, is doing drugs and is producing misogynistic music. Eventually, she falls in line. Lexus, one of JDay’s women, doesn’t get on board and is thrown out of the house with her child.
The movie does have its moments. There’s the electrifying opening monologue:
Man, a dog don’t know shit about no birthdays or Christmas or Easter bunny, none of that shit. And one day, God gonna come calling, so, you know, they going through life carefree. But people like you and me, man, we always guessing. Wondering, “What if?” You know what I mean? So when you say to me, “Hey, I don’t think we should be doing this,” I gotta say, baby, I don’t think we need to be doing this neither, but we ain’t gonna get no move on in this world, lying around in the sun, licking our ass all day.
You can read the whole thing here.
And while the ending is weak and rushed, there is a definite irony to the whole thing. [SPOILER ALERT]
DJay attempts to hustle his way in the business. When that doesn’t work, he loses his temper, almost kills a man and ends up in prison. It’s the thing that makes his career. As the prison guard says, “Man, this the cat who stomped on Skinny with that ‘Whoop That Trick’ song.” In a world where a rapper’s career can be built on having been shot nine times, this is publicity you couldn’t buy. The way the plot unravels seems kind of crazy, but the news is filled with similar altercations among rap’s elite and their followers.
There is that moment at the end, with DJay in prison. As far as he knows, his dream is shot. All of his work is for naught. But he learns that the disaster that put him behind bars, has also ensured his success. Although he doesn’t know it, Nola has turned her skills as a whore to become a record publicist, and makes it look like a short trip. The prison guards are asking him for help, as if he’s already a star. As DJay walks back to his cell, he almost has a look on his face as if to say, “Ain’t America grand?”
(By the way, I saw Walk the Line right after Hustle & Flow, and they have a lot in common, besides both taking place in Memphis. When Walk the Line comes out on DVD next week, have your own double-feature.)
At the beginning of the movie, right after that amazing opening cited above, this song kicks in. It’s raw and bluesy, sounding a little like Hendrix. I sat there, thinking: I know this song. Damn, how do I know this song? After a week, I dug it up out of my collection. It’s a 64-year-old Buddy Guy kicking ass and taking names. In Hustle & Flow, the moment is punctuated by a freeze-frame and then the title appears, in that font characteristic of Seventies blaxploitation films. I’ll give writer-director Craig Brewer props — that moment sent a chill up my spine.
Similarly, R.L. Burnside was 69 years old when he recorded A Ass Pocket of Whiskey (1996) with the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion. They were young whippersnappers, and they brought energy and an edge to the proceedings. But R.L. already had the attitude and he matched ‘em right down the line.
Buddy Guy – Baby Please Don’t Leave Me — BUY
R. L. Burnside – Goin’ Down South — BUY
Tags: Hustle & Flow, Terrence Howard, Craig Brewer, Walk the Line, Buddy Guy, R.L. Burnside