The very first scene of Baby Boy - featuring the movie's lead character, Jody (Tyrese Gibson), floating in his mother's womb (as a grown "man", mind you), and speaking on the dysfunctional psyche of Black Maleness these days - evoked a feeling of extreme sadness in me, at the current state of Black Men In America. Good thing I know that We Are Not A Monolith. The Story (WARNING: **spoilers contained below**) John Singleton returns to The Hood, this time with a tale about boys not quite ready to be Real Men - and the girls who enable their dysfunctional behavior. Jody, unemployed and not really looking to change that, is a certified Mama's Boy, afraid to cut the umbilical cord and leave his mother (A.J. Johnson) to live her own life. Normal behavior for a young boy, perhaps - but Jody has two children of his own, by two different babymamas: his current girlfriend Yvette (Taraji P. Henson), who has still-a-child Issues of her own to deal with, and Peanut (Tamara LaSeon Bass), who Jody still hangs onto as backup, just in case. "Unstable Females" aside, Jody's got his boy Sweet Pea (Omar Gooding) to watch his back - and Jody needs all the help he can get. But change may soon be out of Jody's control: on the one hand, his mama's new boyfriend Melvin (Ving Rhames), who Jody sees as a thuggish threat, is moving in - which means Jody might have to move out against his wishes. And on the other hand, Yvette's old jailbird boyfriend Rodney (Snoop Dogg) is due to be released from prison Real Soon Now. Uh oh... The Upshot "We Are Not A Monolith". In the nearly 200 reviews I've written for 3BC, I've included that statement in almost all of them. But (besides the explanation I've also included in each of the reviews with a "Black Factor" section) what does that statement mean? For starters, it means that the extreme sadness I felt during Baby Boy need not be taken as a personal burden. To put it bluntly, I don't know Those Kneegrows. Well, that's not exactly true. I used to know them. I used to be their neighbor, and if I had stayed any longer, I might have become them. I wasn't saved from that fate until I moved away from Detroit and into college and beyond, exercising my own version of "White Flight". And even that's not quite true. Some of Those Kneegrows are members of my family. If not my immediate family, then certainly, my extended family. For if I know nothing else about Being Black In America, I know that no matter where you move, no matter how much money you make, no matter how deep in denial you are, ultimately, you cannot hide from your Blackness. If you don't acknowledge it for yourself, then somebody in this society will acknowledge it for you. This, then, is why that extreme sadness does now, and always will, belong to me - just as the extreme joy We tend to display when one of Our Own does good, equally belongs to me. Which brings me back to John Singleton. Y'all remember him, right? The young brother who, ten years ago, won wide acclaim for his breakthrough movie on (one type of) life in the ghetto? Unless you've been living under a rock, you probably know that Baby Boy is a followup to (though not specifically a continuance of) Singleton's Boyz N The Hood. But the followup, as often happens, is not as strong as that from which it originated. My biggest problem with Baby Boy is that it had a distinct Been There, Done That, Got The Ghetto Flava, feel to it. It possesses neither the raw energy of its direct predecessor, nor the lyrical groove of the other third of Singleton's Ghetto Trilogy, Poetic Justice - comparisons that, though perhaps not strictly fair, are still justified by Singleton's own wishes, since he himself has grouped these three films together in the past. With not much new to add to the genre, one is left to wonder why Singleton has repeated himself (aside from obvious financial gains. Not That There's Anything Wrong With That). Likewise, the young talent here is not quite up to the task of their "Boyz" counterparts. Tyrese Gibson as Jody was fine [uh, as in "okay"...though he's not bad on the eyes either], as was Taraji P. Henson as Yvette, one of Jody's babymamas. But Snoop Dogg was just too skinny - both in physique and in acting talent - to make much of an impression on me. And as a direct "Boyz" to "Baby" comparison, Cuba Gooding's brother Omar had neither Cuba's charm, nor Cuba's "Boyz" character Tre Styles' "fish-out-of-water" feel. Omar relied too much on a growl and a grunt to see him through. Honestly, I can't say that I liked any of this lot, far as Important Movies go. Cube, Gooding, and Chestnut, they weren't. None of which to say that Baby Boy isn't worth a look-see. If not as forcefully as before, Singleton does still have much of import to say on the subject of (one aspect of) Black Ghetto Life, both as narrator and as filmmaker; and some of his directorial stylings are simply brilliant. On the acting front, Ving Rhames continues his habit of providing powerful performances (worthy of his "Boyz" counterpart, the magnificent Laurence Fishburne) in whatever he's in [and I ain't gonna front; bru'man has a beautiful butt]. Rhames is matched well here by A.J. Johnson, in an equally strong performance that may unfortunately go unnoticed. And driven by a strong soundtrack, Baby Boy provides unique delights all its own. My best advice is, go for the history behind Baby Boy, if you must; but take this film own merits. The "Black Factor"    [ObDisclaimer: We Are Not A Monolith] [I apologize in advance, for this will be my longest "Black Factor" to date.] "Ghetto Wednesday". A loaded phrase, when you think about it. I suppose, in the scheme of things, that it is a small price to pay for Our films to become noticed. Some might say there's not a price being paid at all; merely a strange - and benign - coincidence. And still others might say that it is Our fault that such a phenomena exists at all; if there is any harm, the harm is on Our heads. I suppose all of that could be so, and in fact, I know that some of it is so. But try as I might to ignore it, the perceived existence of Ghetto Wednesday bothers me. It bothers me mightily. It probably hasn't occurred to many people to look at it very closely (and I am still looking, in hopes that it is all just an ugly coincidence, not an Evil Plot conjured up to cause me grief); but there is a pattern that I and some others have noticed, for "Black-themed" movies to be released on Wednesdays instead of the customary Fridays on which most American movies are released. The problem with this theory? Two, actually: not all "Black-themed" movies are released on Wednesday, and not all Wednesday releases are Black movies, "themed", "lead", or what have you (recent examples of the latter include Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Mission: Implausable Too, and The Matrix). I have some theories on that, too. To address the first, it occurs to me (and some of those "others") that it's not merely "Black-themed" movies that are released on Wednesdays; more specifically, Black movies with a (perceived?) high "violence" content, are the ones generally delegated...oh, let me say it plain - segregated - to Ghetto Wednesday. As for the second, the answer lies in the different reasons behind Wednesday releases. For movies like "Matrix", "Star Wars", and the like, the idea is that a Wednesday release will help to add to the boffo box office that is expected of them (or that, at least, might be helped by a jumpstart on the weekend). Ghetto Wednesday releases, however, have quite a different origin: harking back to a period in which "violent" Black movies like New Jack City were released (on Friday) and "riots" erupted in some theaters in primarily Black neighborhoods, a Wednesday release of these kinds of movies, so the mindset goes, could possibly help to stem some of the initial violent response from folks having time on their hands on a weekend, by showing them first on a less-free weekday. "Ludicrous!", you say? Perhaps. But still, the pattern exists; and I'd really like to be proven wrong about it. In the end, Ghetto Wednesday could just be a figment of my (and others') vivid imagination; more likely, it could be a harmless way of Keeping The Peace, with some Great Father Figure looking out for all of us, Black, White, and Otherwise. I suppose it shouldn't bother me so; other than its built-in segregation (of movies that I tend not to like anyway), what's the downside? Then again, I'm sure some folks are comforted by Zero Tolerance policies at their children's school. You know - the policies that all but convict school children of being Little Monsters for having some of the same kinds of thoughts, notions, and (how dare they!) ideas that most of us did when we were in school. Non-sequitur? You might think so. But I see things like this as being on the same continuum. And it bothers me. Bammer's Bottom Line I'm glad John Singleton got his "Ghetto Trilogy" filmed and on the shelf; getting it out of his system, hopefully, means that he's read'ta Move On, show the film world what else he's got up his sleeve. The question remains, though: will We support his Bigger Better efforts, or are We just blowin' smoke (again)? BABY BOY: Here's hoping that Singleton will now focus on the Men amongst Us, and leave the Boyz behind. back to top And that's the way I see it. Rose "Bams" Cooper 3BlackChicks Review™ Copyright Rose Cooper, 2001 EMAIL: bams@3blackchicks.com    ICQ: 7760005 http://www.3blackchicks.com/

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