"The only game you know is do or die."
I watched "Superfly" this weekend.
This is part of my continuing viewing of blaxploitation classics; I watched "The Mack" a few weeks ago, and I've got "Sweet Sweetback's Badass Song" in my Netflix instant streaming queue.
Sometimes, you watch a movie that's very enamoured of it's plot--they have a story to tell, and they have to tell it and other things take a back seat to the story. And sometimes, you see movies that are very laid back in their storytelling, like the movie is less about an Important Story and more of a reason to hang out with these characters.
Superfly belongs into that second category. The movie really functions on two different levels: it's a character study of a guy who's selling cocaine, and it's lifestyle porn for drug dealers.
The plot is ostensibly about the main character trying to sell enough cocaine that he could quit dealing, but he has no idea what he'd do instead--and he readily admits it. None of the other characters are particularly interested in making him quit dealing, either. And sure enough, he gets a lot of coke and sells it (via a very long but effective montage sequence)--but then whitey starts hassling him, so he takes out a protection contract on himself. In the film's final scenes, he tricks the white gang members who are after him so they don't steal his money, and then he lets them know that he's put out a contract with some "white killers; the best kind they have, baby" to kill the gangsters if he dies. And then he just leaves; there's no epilogue or coda describing what he did with the money or even if he stopped dealing.
Really, though, the movie is about how awesome the main character is. He does some coke, bangs some girls, hangs out in cool clubs, and he doesn't take any shit from any other black people. The only person he has to take crap from is whitey, and he even gets around that. There are lots of long shots of the protagonist driving in his sweet car, banging girls, just hanging out in a club listening to soul music, etc. The movie really only has a plot because it has to--it's mostly interested in hanging out with the main character, and getting to explore his cool lifestyle.
All this gives the film a very laid back feel--sort of like the film equivalent of listening to an extended improvisational jazz or soul session. The movie is great at creating a mood and tone and feel; the less it concentrates on plot, the more it works. There are scenes that are almost wholly disconnected from the plot--like the scene where the protagonist has karate practice, or some long scenes set in clubs where people just talk and hang out.
This is part of my continuing viewing of blaxploitation classics; I watched "The Mack" a few weeks ago, and I've got "Sweet Sweetback's Badass Song" in my Netflix instant streaming queue.
Sometimes, you watch a movie that's very enamoured of it's plot--they have a story to tell, and they have to tell it and other things take a back seat to the story. And sometimes, you see movies that are very laid back in their storytelling, like the movie is less about an Important Story and more of a reason to hang out with these characters.
Superfly belongs into that second category. The movie really functions on two different levels: it's a character study of a guy who's selling cocaine, and it's lifestyle porn for drug dealers.
The plot is ostensibly about the main character trying to sell enough cocaine that he could quit dealing, but he has no idea what he'd do instead--and he readily admits it. None of the other characters are particularly interested in making him quit dealing, either. And sure enough, he gets a lot of coke and sells it (via a very long but effective montage sequence)--but then whitey starts hassling him, so he takes out a protection contract on himself. In the film's final scenes, he tricks the white gang members who are after him so they don't steal his money, and then he lets them know that he's put out a contract with some "white killers; the best kind they have, baby" to kill the gangsters if he dies. And then he just leaves; there's no epilogue or coda describing what he did with the money or even if he stopped dealing.
Really, though, the movie is about how awesome the main character is. He does some coke, bangs some girls, hangs out in cool clubs, and he doesn't take any shit from any other black people. The only person he has to take crap from is whitey, and he even gets around that. There are lots of long shots of the protagonist driving in his sweet car, banging girls, just hanging out in a club listening to soul music, etc. The movie really only has a plot because it has to--it's mostly interested in hanging out with the main character, and getting to explore his cool lifestyle.
All this gives the film a very laid back feel--sort of like the film equivalent of listening to an extended improvisational jazz or soul session. The movie is great at creating a mood and tone and feel; the less it concentrates on plot, the more it works. There are scenes that are almost wholly disconnected from the plot--like the scene where the protagonist has karate practice, or some long scenes set in clubs where people just talk and hang out.