Movie Review: 'Hustle & Flow' Is About Much More Than Music
You may not know or care what "crunk" music is or where it comes from, but "Hustle & Flow," the year's big story at the Sundance Film Festival, is about much more than this variant on rap music.
The movie _ purchased by Paramount Pictures and MTV Films for $9 million, the biggest price tag in the film festival's history _ is about a Memphis pimp in a midlife crisis who decides to pursue his long-held dream of getting into the music business.
I know what you're thinking: "A movie about a pimp who becomes a rapper? Sounds like just the kind of escapist fun I've been looking for at the box office!"
But the movie's effortless charm and earthy naturalism, combined with strong performances from its main and supporting actors, are beguiling enough to draw in any audience. At the same time, the movie never betrays its grungy milieu or the sometimes grimly downtrodden nature of its characters.
"Hustle & Flow " was written and directed by Craig Brewer and produced by John Singleton, and the filmmakers' powerful love of music is one the movie's strong suits.
But what really elevates the movie is actor Terrence Howard's portrayal of DJay. An aging low-end pimp who is relegated to doing business from the front seat of his similarly aging Chevy Caprice, DJay resolves to change his life after hearing that an old acquaintance, the successful rapper Skinny Black (Ludacris) is coming to town for a visit.
Howard _ unrecognizable from his recent, polar-opposite role as a befuddled, upper-middle-class television producer in "Crash" _ has kicked around for more than a decade in supporting roles. "Hustle & Flow " gives him a chance to shine as a leading man, and he seizes it.
DJay goes about recapturing his lost dream with methodical determination, but also a measure of caution. He knows from experience how fragile it is, and no amount of bluster can hide the fear in DJay's eyes.
Even as he confidently lays down his plan _ compiling his raps in a small notebook, assembling his '`band'' and preparing to ambush Skinny Black with a demo tape _ from time to time a pained look comes over him, as if he can't shake the question: What if it doesn't work?
What makes the character so magnetic is the way he pivots from this vulnerability to a bravado that seems to come from the same jaded-yet-hopeful place.
It isn't always pretty, especially when he is dealing with his employees. But it feels real, especially when DJay is forced to summon all of his courage and hustling skills in his approach to Skinny Black. Their rendezvous, the climax of the film, is full of tension and menace, until it lapses into melodrama, one of the film's few missteps.
Brewer further transcends his generic story by deftly sketching out a handful of secondary characters and getting thoughtful performances from the supporting cast.
As Key, DJay's producer, and Shelby, his riff-generating, beat-producing electronic keyboardist, Anthony Anderson and DJ Qualls share some of the film's best scenes with Howard.
As if to prove that the film's passion for music knows no musical boundaries, one of the most effective moments comes when DJay and Nola (Taryn Manning) sit in on Key's production of a gospel choir recording.
Brewer and cinematographer Amy Vincent bring summer-time Memphis to languorous, yawning life; a heat haze seems to hover over everything _ even DJay's slow, smoky speech.
Crunk, incidentally, is a form of rap that mixes a heavy bass beat with a hooky chorus and verse and rowdy shouting. But that's as beside the point in talking about this movie as a primer on prostitution would be. As a skillfully wrought tale of personal redemption, "Hustle & Flow" is all soul.
