by George Wolf
Straight Outta Compton
“Speak a little truth and people lose their minds.”
The members of N.W.A. were hardly the first artists to learn that lesson, but in the late 1980s, they lived it. Straight Outta Compton tells their story with enough honesty, humor and style to make it not only utterly compelling and completely entertaining, but also a damn good history lesson.
N.W.A. became both heroes and villains in 1988, when their album Straight Outta Compton (and specifically their song “F*&^ tha Police”) set off a national firestorm. While much of white suburbia clutched their pearls, group members Ice Cube, Dr. Dre, Eazy-E, MC Ren and Dj Yella explained they were just writing what they knew, and expressing just how it felt to live their lives.
Director F. Gary Gray (Friday, The Negotiator, The Italian Job, Be Cool) wastes no time getting your attention, opening with a terrifically tense drug raid sequence followed by Eazy-E (Jason Mitchell) running from the police on Compton, California rooftops.
Gray, aided by screenwriters Jonathan Herman and Andrea Berloff, keeps up the brisk, thoughtful and surprisingly funny pace early on, as we see the group form and take their street knowledge to the recording studio, propelled by Ice Cube’s lyrics, Dr. Dre’s production skills and Eazy-E’s cash flow. Their rise to headline status is endlessly watchable, filled with defiant music and often interspersed with actual news reports from the era.
Mitchell is outstanding as Eazy-E, bringing the swagger required of the group’s early leader, as well as the deeper layers of character that make his downfall as sympathetic as it is expected. The only thing stopping Mitchell from stealing the movie is O’Shea Jackson, Jr,’s breakthrough performance as his real-life father Ice Cube.
The resemblance is uncanny even for a father/son duo but even more than that, Jackson, Jr. embodies the restlessness and rage behind those early rhymes. You can feel his understandable pride in telling this story, and the camera is simply drawn to his charisma. Expect much more from this kid.
The film has many balls in the air, and Gray manages a deft juggling act for most of the nearly 2 1/2 hour running time. It would be understandable, if not outright forgivable, to belabor the point that current headlines only confirm N.W.A. were reporting their present, not seeing the future, but the film gains more power from subtlety.
Melodrama does sneak into the moments when tragedy strikes the group’s inner circle, the pace begins to drag in the third act, and making Dr. Dre’s mother a cliched, forced character seems a desperate attempt to feature at least one positive female. But there’s irony in the missteps.
The film does so many things well, the sudden speed bumps feel more damaging than they end up being.
And, of course, music is the ace in the hole. You hear familiar songs begin to take shape, then acquire a new power as they form in the studio or explode onstage via sweaty, fist-pumping performance pieces. Kudos, too, to whoever decided (I’m guessing it was co-producers Cube and Dre) to pepper the soundtrack with plenty of George Clinton music, giving a much-sampled legend due credit.
This is a musical biopic with some pretty high stakes. It’s at once a universal story of expression, and an intimate American journey, as vital to its own time as it is to ours.
High stakes can bring a big payoff, much like the one you’ll find one in Straight Outta Compton.
The Man from U.N.C.L.E.
Back in 2009, Guy Ritchie used intriguing casting, slick editing, and a hint of bromance to spark what seems like an endlessly reinvigorated interest in Sherlock Holmes. He employs the same basic formula to the less well-remembered franchise The Man from U.N.C.L.E., with similar results.
Filmed in the actual Sixties, the TV series ran for four years, pairing American and Russian super spies to show that we really can all work together when there are nefarious evildoers to thwart. Ritchie has fun taking us back to the swinging side of the Cold War, generating an affectionate retro vibe that compliments his upbeat, sometimes droll action comedy.
Henry Cavill (Superman) and Armie Hammer (The Lone Ranger) gadget-up as American Napoleon Solo and comrade Ilya Kuryakin, respectively. Cavill impresses as smooth ladies’ man Solo. His timing and dry humor recall a particular type of leading man rarely seen outside the Sixties, and he’s a blast to watch.
Hammer makes a fine foil, although he doesn’t leave nearly as distinct an impression. His Ilya comes off as a bit of a sociopath, which should probably be funnier than it is.
Ritchie cannot figure out what to do with a wildly miscast Alicia Vikander, which is a shame. Her performance in this year’s brilliant SciFi thriller Ex Machina marked her as one major reason to look forward to UNCLE. Her character Gaby – a conflicted single/double/triple agent with an attitude and a crush – should offer enough layers for fun adventure, but Vikander can’t seem to flesh her out at all.
The plot is pretty typical fare – baddies have nuclear capabilities. (Oh, wait. It’s 1963 – make that “atomic capabilities.”) An international organization of good guys has to bring them down, but since these good guys are all spies from different countries with different motivations, well, who can be trusted?
For a fun waste of time, Guy Ritchie can be.
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