JUST LIE
There's a line in the movie HUSTLE AND FLOW that really rings true for me. The main character, a lovable but lame pimp- DJ who is trying to break into the rap business has just beat the shit out of his hero- Skinny Black. He trys to stuff the cassette into Skinny's mouth, after Skinny has "dissed" him by tossing aforementioned cassette in the toilet. Gunplay. Skinny lives. Our hero is in jail on that jail phone, separated by that glass, with his producer. The producer asks if he REALLY knew Skinny before that night. DJ ponders this and with all sincerity, assures the producer that in the end he will most definitely lie. Truer words were never spoken.
I want to stuff every cassette, CD, sheet of slides, resume, press release, manuscript, invitation and signed headshot I've ever dropped in the mail down Skinny's throat too. I loved this movie. This guy's got hos, a nice ride, a bit of a hectic schedule and one night fate intervenes in the form of a Casio SK-50. This is the very same organ I started a church with. But that's neither here nor there. DJ takes the organ, does a little " Rock you. Rock You." on a loop and before you can say "Beeee-Otch." he's a wannabe rap star. What he doesn't realize is it's better to be a pimp. At least I think that was the theme. I give it Four Gats blazing.
The epiphany over the lie is what caught me. The script, written by a white guy, is philosophical. In another scene Nola spits back verbatim "flow" on the difference between man (small m) like a dog and Mankind (like a dog with memory). This she does while straddling a music biz guy's running suit and eventually she hears DJ's tune on the radio. I cried on that one. Then in a beautiful twist the jailers slip DJ their cassette, informing him that they know the streets from both sides. I cried again. We all assume that if DJ doesn't get violated in the weight room or shived in the shower he'll come out 11 months later a star, rich beyond his wildest dreams. Once again, show me who to shoot or what mouth to stuff this laptop down. My street cred. is good. I guess you'd call it road cred. up here. Knuckles to the glass my brother.
I want to stuff every cassette, CD, sheet of slides, resume, press release, manuscript, invitation and signed headshot I've ever dropped in the mail down Skinny's throat too. I loved this movie. This guy's got hos, a nice ride, a bit of a hectic schedule and one night fate intervenes in the form of a Casio SK-50. This is the very same organ I started a church with. But that's neither here nor there. DJ takes the organ, does a little " Rock you. Rock You." on a loop and before you can say "Beeee-Otch." he's a wannabe rap star. What he doesn't realize is it's better to be a pimp. At least I think that was the theme. I give it Four Gats blazing.
The epiphany over the lie is what caught me. The script, written by a white guy, is philosophical. In another scene Nola spits back verbatim "flow" on the difference between man (small m) like a dog and Mankind (like a dog with memory). This she does while straddling a music biz guy's running suit and eventually she hears DJ's tune on the radio. I cried on that one. Then in a beautiful twist the jailers slip DJ their cassette, informing him that they know the streets from both sides. I cried again. We all assume that if DJ doesn't get violated in the weight room or shived in the shower he'll come out 11 months later a star, rich beyond his wildest dreams. Once again, show me who to shoot or what mouth to stuff this laptop down. My street cred. is good. I guess you'd call it road cred. up here. Knuckles to the glass my brother.
posted by mike osterhout at 3:43 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home