"Hustle & Flow," an opening-night sellout at the 2005 Atlanta Film Festival, is one of those terrific out-of-the-blue movies that come along every so often.
No big names. A plot pimp wants to become a rap star that's unpromising, to say the least. A director no one's heard of. No studio interest (at first). Low budget. Shot in Memphis.
Paramount Classics
A- The verdict: Smart, funny, incredibly foulmouthed, with a star-making turn by Terrence Howard. Director: Craig Brewer On the web |
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Yes, Memphis. Which, in director Craig Brewer's hands, provides a unique background for an unusual and unusually good film.
Tired of hustling weed and women, low-level pimp/drug dealer, DJay (Terrence Howard), decides to follow his dream and become a rapper. After all, his "old pal" Skinny Black (Ludacris) they knew each other "back in the day," DJay dubiously claims has become a chart-topping star. So, much like Mickey and Judy putting on a show in the barn, DJay builds a ramshackle studio in his home and recruits Key (Anthony Anderson), a guy he really did know back in the day, as his sound engineer. Key's career-driven wife is suspicious of DJay and, initially, so is Key. "People who talk the talk usually want me to do the walking," he says, implying he's tired of doing the heavy lifting in a partnership.
Speaking of walking, DJay still has a trio of hookers on his hands. One, Lexus (Paula Jai Parker), is also a stripper, with a son by some anonymous john. Another, Shug (Taraji P. Henson), is also pregnant, father unknown. The third is his money-maker, a leggy blonde baby-ho' named Nola (Taryn Manning), who dresses like Daisy Duke and comes on to her johns with the inviting line, "Wanna see me walk in these high heels up to your lap?"
Nola is the cash cow in the operation. And shy little downtrodden Shug turns out to have a dynamite voice. When she, DJay, Key and their skinny, white-boy techie, Shelby (DJ Qualls), pull it together on a song, it's like the "Rain in Spain" sequence in "My Fair Lady." Except, these lyrics go, "You know, it's hard out here for a pimp." (Another hit-in-the-making is called "Whoop That Trick.")
Though the language is quite foul and the sexuality and domestic violence can get down-and-dirty, at heart "Hustle & Flow" is pure "Rocky." "I don't know what I want," DJay says. "But I want something."
Most immediately, he wants to slip a demo to Skinny Black, who's back in Memphis for a visit. Their meeting in a smoky club, with the superstar surrounded by an entourage of hangers-on, hookers and yes-men, is a beauty.
The milieu is scruffy, but there's not a hint of indie-film scruffiness in the movie itself. Brewer knows what he's doing. He craftily walks on the wild side without ever truly threatening his audience or making his picture inaccessible to mainstream moviegoers. Nor does he try to out-hip his viewers, like the overrated "8 Mile." (This is the movie that movie wanted to be.)
"Hustle & Flow" begins with a snarl, then cozies up to you, then bites, then backs off and finally goes out on a clever bit of showbiz irony. It can be sentimental. It can be melodramatic. Not all the characters are completely thought through. But it has energy to spare and a lot of good writing.
As he recently proved in "Crash," Ludacris has heat onscreen. He's edgy and magnetic, turning on the charm when he chooses, being a self-centered bully when he doesn't. Manning's blank sexiness makes Heather Graham's Rollergirl look like an amateur. And Henson shows remarkable range as her character transforms from a doormat to a confident woman.
Howard's the hook, though. He gives a nimble and stunningly realistic performance, as only the best actors can. He can switch from mean-as-a-snake pimp to protective Big Daddy to, well, "Rocky-esque" dreamer without missing a beat.
Producer John Singleton obviously knows talent on both sides of the camera when he sees it. He also knows a little something about out-of-the-blue movies, having directed one of the most successful ones himself, a little thing called "Boyz n the Hood."