Urban Cinema

Over the years, Hip Hop culture has had somewhat of a rocky relationship with the world of cinema. While the financial benefit for studios and filmmakers has been steady for many years, the quality of some of the output and it’s accuracy in portraying not just Hip Hop music and culture, but also the life experiences of African-Americans, is certainly chequered.

As the power and influence of Hip Hop has grown within mainstream consciousness the more interest film studios have had in making movies inspired by the culture (music, language, fashion etc.) of Hip Hop. Much like it’s predecessor, the Blaxploitation genre, urban cinema has both glorified clichés of Black America and shunned them at the same time.

With their reputation for accuracy and authenticity, documentary films have more often that not proven to be the best platform in which to broadcast Hip Hop music and culture to the world. Whether it be more cultural based works like the groundbreaking Style Wars (1983) and Scratch (2001) or more specific music related projects such as Welcome To Death Row (2001) or the Beef DVD series. The emotion and passion felt by artists and fans alike can be experienced to a high degree in the aforementioned films and others like them. When it comes to big-time studio motion pictures though, things get a little murky.

Along with predecessor Spike Lee, director John Singleton undoubtedly kicked the door down for other Black filmmakers and other Hip Hop-influenced films on a grand scale, pioneering so-called ‘hood cinema’ with his landmark Boyz N The Hood (1991). Not only starring former NWA lyricist Ice Cube in an important role, which opened the floodgates for every rapper with acting ambitions to follow, BNTH also featured a mostly Hip Hop-driven soundtrack (2 Live Crew, Main Source, Kam and others).

Singleton further proved his filmmaking chops in 1993’s Poetic Justice, starring Tupac Shakur and Janet Jackson, in a fulfilling tale of hood love, along with 1995’s smouldering masterpiece Higher Learning, avoiding some of the urban cinema clichés that he himself established with BNTH.

Following in similar footsteps were the Hughes brothers (Albert and Allen), whose style quickly drew comparisons to Singleton (both fairly and unfairly). Building on the already established genre, the Hughes brethren delivered a more decidedly dark realism and melancholic twist on urban-based cinema with Menace II Society (1993) and Dead Presidents (1995). Below the radar pictures such as 1993’s Sugar Hill, which provided Wesley ‘Nino Brown’ Snipes with one of his most fulfilling roles, added an artistic and poignant element to the style.

An honourable mention also to F. Gary Grey who also strayed from convention, teaming up with Ice Cube for the classic gritty comedy Friday (ignoring the lacklustre sequels) and 1995’s Set It Off, starring Queen Latifah and Jada Pinkett (Smith), which further expanded on the established themes of classism/racism in America and strong-willed women taking matters into their own hands (also staples of the Blaxploitation and Western genres).

Sadly, with the exception of Gridlock’d (1996) and his debut in Juice (1991), Hip Hop icon Tupac Shakur had a mostly spotty film career, as filmmakers seemingly didn’t realise the potential and range Shakur had, casting him as a cold-hearted one-dimensional thug. While co-stars such as Duane Martin (from 1994’s Above The Rim) and Mickey Rourke (from 1996’s Bullet) were given meatier characters with substance, who faced moral dilemmas, Shakur was left dwindling as either a crazed killer or drug dealer, or both, who had little else to do but exact violent revenge. Basically the film equivalents of the Notorious B.I.G. diss Hit’ Em Up, all intensity and anger with not much else going on.

Bullet had Tupac cast as almost a Slick Rick imitation (complete with ridiculous eye-patch) out to get Mickey Rourke’s Bullet character, who had apparently cost him his eye years before and had interfered in his drug operation. The sight of the nearly middle-aged Irish-bred Rourke clad in gang colours and attire is also quite laughable, although his quality performance somewhat overrides that.

The mid 90s also saw the emergence of straight-to-video independent urban cinema duds. You know the kind that you have likely seen in a bargain bin at your local music/DVD store, starring highly skilled thespians such as Mack 10 and Silkk the Shocker. It’s almost a film sub-genre unto itself where character, story and production values have no place, where only vulgar language, misogyny, graphic footage (both violent and sexual) and a Hip Hop-related soundtrack prevail.

Undoubtedly the king of straight-to-DVD tackiness is the self-proclaimed Hip Hop equivalent of Bill Gates, Master P, whose No Limit Films churned out an endless stream of dreadful ‘dramas’ and ‘comedies’. From Snoop Dogg’s gangsta fairytale Paid Tha Cost To Be Da Boss to the Eddie Griffin-starring I Got The Hook Up.

Yes, Hip Hop and cinema have had an interesting union over the years, both emphasising what people love about Hip Hop and the clichés they want erased at the same time. While the likes of Common and Mos Def appear to be making some headway with decent roles in legitimate films, we still have to contend with the likes of Ja Rule and Kurupt co-starring alongside Steven Segal and Malcolm McDowell in lightweight bombs.