‘Hustle and Flow’ full of surprises

JIM ERWIN

It seems contradictory to use “MTV Films” and “excellent movie” in

the same sentence, but “Hustle and Flow” is a movie that’s full of

surprises.

This is a great story with brilliant acting and an infectious

soundtrack. The characters aren’t necessarily people you want living

in your neighborhood, but you’ll believe they’re real, and you’ll

care about what happens to them.

The story follows a Memphis pimp named DJay (Terrence Howard), who

realizes his life won’t have much of an epitaph. He learns that an

old school friend has become a rap star, and he decides to try to

follow suit. He hopes music will also be his ticket off of the

streets.

This kind of story about a young man’s rise to greatness usually

features a mentor character who’s played by an elderly black man. The

mentor is the one who becomes the champion’s trainer in the gym, or

teaches the star how to appreciate the soul of the music.

One of the interesting twists is how “Hustle and Flow” flips that

part of the formula upside down. DJay’s lesson in afro-musicology

comes from a scrawny white boy named Shelby (DJ Qualls). The audience

I sat with saw Shelby as mostly comic relief, but this character’s

pure love of music embodies the soul of this movie.

Shelby and music producer Key (Anthony Anderson) are both good and

honest people who aren’t really a fit in DJay’s world, except that

they share his dream and desire to make a musical statement. DJay’s

decisions impact their lives directly and, unlike him, they both have

something to lose when he makes mistakes.

Although this is a story of empowerment, DJay is not an empowering

character. Pimping women doesn’t empower them. Selling people drugs

doesn’t empower them.

Real life is full of these kinds of contradictions, and that’s

what makes the characters in “Hustle and Flow” engaging and

interesting. We really want DJay’s music to make the ghetto suddenly

disappear from everyone’s lives overnight, but we know that just

isn’t going to happen.

Producer John Singleton has a knack for putting characters in

settings that are painfully honest. DJay’s house is a rat hole, full

of pregnant women and screaming babies. His car is a 1984 Chevrolet

Caprice that desperately needs a paint job, but has shiny wheels that

scream conspicuous consumption.

One thing is for sure. This isn’t Julia Roberts playing a

well-adjusted street whore living in splendor.

Every actor in this movie is terrific, but one of the best

performances is given by Taraji P. Henson as the prostitute Shug.

She’s carrying a baby she believes is DJay’s, but in reality, she’s

clueless about the identity of the father. Her character is a poster

child for low self-esteem.

When she finally hears herself sing, she’s completely overwhelmed

by disbelief. The emotion she feels flows off the screen like a tidal

wave.

Terrence Howard should be nominated for an Oscar for his

performance as DJay, but that probably won’t happen. This movie

doesn’t have the financing or the clout to engage in the kind of

campaigning necessary to get a nomination. Howard has everything

about this character down cold and does an amazing Memphis accent.

The heart of “Hustle and Flow” is the music, and the three

original songs performed by Howard are incredible. I’m not much of a

rap fan, but I still can’t get these songs out of my head.

The subject of music adds an interesting complication to the

story. On one hand, DJay expresses sincere affection for the women in

his life, but on the other, it’s hard to believe that anyone who

refers to women as “bitches” and “ho’s” has any respect for anyone,

including himself.

The thing I found most confusing about “Hustle and Flow” was that

I was the only white person in the audience when I saw the movie. On

a busy weekend, you can’t drive down the street in Huntington Beach

without passing someone blasting gangsta rap out of the speakers of

their BMW.

It’s peculiar how this music is so popular with affluent white

suburbanites, but these same people won’t chance sitting next to

someone with brown skin to watch a movie. It’s also interesting that

despite the popularity of this music, this movie isn’t playing in

Huntington, Newport or the other Orange County beach cities.

* JIM ERWIN, 40, is a technical writer and computer trainer.

Six degrees of meeting ‘Drew’

Flush with his $1,100 game show winnings, Brian Herzlinger sets

off to fulfill his childhood dream -- meeting Drew Barrymore. The

struggling Hollywood wannabe gives himself 30 days to accomplish his

goal.

In the reality documentary, “My Date With Drew,” Brian’s strategy

is to set into play the “six degrees of separation” theory to reach

his goal.

Simply put, the “six degrees” theory states that everyone has a

connection with anyone else through six or fewer friends, friends of

friends, co-workers, acquaintances. To work it, all a person does is

start asking people he or she knows who they, in turn, know to see

who knows the particular person being looked for -- see movie for

more details.

As a six-year Hollywood resident, having worked all types of

industry-related jobs to jump-start his film career, Brian feels

confident someone in his close circle of friends can get him a

meet-and-greet with Drew. Armed with a camcorder bought with a 30-day

return policy, Brian sets his plans in motion by asking, cajoling and

begging his buddies to help him. His friends respond in kind by

hooking Brian up with everyone one from B-list movie stars to

scriptwriters to limousine drivers and hairdressers Drew has worked

with, partied with or hired.

Making contact and landing the date with Drew, however, is only

part of Brian’s concerns. Brian is also fixated on what he will say,

how he will dress and where the date, if it happens, will be taking

place. Brian produces various techniques to reduce his anxieties by

-- among other things -- creating a mock date with Drew, using a

look-a-like stand-in that is then critiqued by his friends.

Brian’s biggest obstacle in getting a date with Drew, however, is

himself. Brian suffers from celebrity performance anxiety. Brian is

afraid that if the date ever happens, and he comes face to face with

Drew, he will freeze up, clam up and embarrass himself. In light of

some earlier situations in the movie, Brian’s fear could manifest

itself.

Most of the time, however, Brian is a functional social literate.

His performance as a smitten fan, dreaming and scheming of a date

with his idol, is as entertaining and fun to watch as a popular

comedy on television.

Shot using a digital camera, “My Date With Drew” is far from being

an amateurish production and closer to being an audition reel for

film studios. While Brian may work as a receptionist or appear on

game shows, his real passion is directing and acting, which he does

in the movie.

Like Brian, all the friends seen helping him on screen worked with

Brian behind the camera -- from the producer to the hair and make-up

artists. In spite of their low budget, Brian and company have

successfully pooled their resources to capture the mindset and

lifestyle of the generation approaching or just passing 30 years of

age.

“My Date With Drew” uses the best practices of storytelling to

connect with today’s mindset and lifestyle. For viewers looking for

something different and good, check out “My Date With Drew” at a

local theater.

* PEGGY J. ROGERS, 40, produces commercial videos and

documentaries.