Straight Outta Compton

Released:  August 14^th, 2015

Rated:  R

Distributor:  Universal Pictures

Starring:  O’Shea Jackson Jr., Corey Hawkins, Jason Mitchell, Paul Giamatti, Neil Brown Jr., Aldis Hodge

Directed by:  F. Gary Gray

Written by:  Jonathan Herman, Andrea Berloff

Personal Bias Alert:  not familiar with the group’s music or its history

7.9 of 10

            Awards season is almost upon us, and it seems that Straight Outta Compton might serve as its unofficial kickoff.  It’s a film that’s touching a nerve among Americans, as its focus, the politically conscious rap group N.W.A., spoke openly about the tension between police and minorities that still persists to this day.  That frankness is retained in the film, and its frequent images of black men being manhandled by officers may sear itself into the minds of Oscar voters.  Then again, it’s a long time until that gold is handed out, and time may not be the kindest thing to this very traditional piece.

            For those like me who are a bit too young to remember N.W.A., it’s the group that first made Dr. Dre and Ice Cube stars and originated the phrase ‘f*** tha police’.  They came out of, you guessed it, Compton, California, so that’s where the film starts, just as the group is solidifying.  Seeing budding talents push for the art they love is a magnetic thing, that’s why it’s such an integral part of music biopics, and the added weight of the social politics surrounding N.W.A. only makes their fight more satisfying.  The circumstances of the group’s story, though, quickly turns into a hindrance for the screenwriters, as the ups and downs of N.W.A.’s career plays out at a rapid pace and leaves them chasing members of the group as they scatter in the wind of the 90’s rap scene.  It’s a scene I’m only faintly aware of, and Straight Outta Compton isn’t interested in slowing down to explain things to the uninitiated.  If you’re like me, you may get a bit lost in the mess of record labels (which definitely hinders the last line of the film), but the story sticks so closely to traditional biopic beats that you’ll always be able to find your way to the important takeaways.

            To the film’s benefit and detriment, several members of N.W.A. were intimately involved in the film’s development, serving as producers, spearheading the marketing, and bringing in a director who they’ve known since the mid 90’s.  That backing certainly helped get the biopic a healthy $28 million budget and attract a massive audience, but it also left the film scarred by missed opportunities.  This is a fluff piece when it comes to actually looking at these men, glossing over their personality faults and poor decisions in a way that leaves them a bit nondescript.  I know enough about the time period, particularly the label Dre ends up associating himself with, to know that seriously messed up stuff was going down.  While Straight Outta Compton does acknowledge these goings-on, it almost entirely leaves out how much Dre and the others were involved, showing them getting their hands dirty only when they were clearly in the right or when the instances are played off as fun.  A little more honesty about the actions they took during this time that they regret, like the violence against women that Dre admitted to in the current issue of Rolling Stone, could’ve taken this film into truly legendary territory.

            But as I said, their involvement does come with perks, a massive one being the involvement of cinematographer Matthew Libatique.  Libatique has long worked with Darren Aronofsky (Requiem for a Dream, Black Swan), and he brings the ability to make the grime and the success look equally beautiful.  That’s not to say that it feels unreal; in fact, the performance scenes are some of the most immersive you’ll see on the big screen, but it all looks so darn pleasing that it helps mask when the film skates around those pesky difficult issues it clearly doesn’t want to address.

            Other proven talents helped mold Straight Outta Compton into the slick, aware piece that it is, and the things N.W.A. stood for are, sadly, still incredibly relevant today.  But the film’s honesty about these issues only highlights the dishonesty that permeates the portraits of these men, making Straight Outta Compton another in a long line of enjoyably safe biopics.

Other Notes:

Ø  All the actors were good, but Jason Mitchell as Easy-E is the breakout force here.

Ø  The film is guilty of focusing on Dr. Dre, Ice Cube, and Eazy-E while marginalizing Dj Yella and MC Ren.  Can you guess who did and didn’t get producing credits?

Ø  There’s a moment towards the end of this film when an unnamed character closes a door that is absolutely heartbreaking.

San Andreas

Released:  May 29^th, 2015

Rated:  PG-13

Distributor:  Warner Bros.

Starring:  Dwayne Johnson, Carla Gugino, Alexandra Daddario, Hugo Johnstone-Burt, Art Parkinson, Paul Giamatti, Archie Panjabi

Directed by:  Brad Peyton        

Written by:  Carlton Cuse

Personal Bias Alert:  expected a lot of cheese, tired of seeing the Golden Gate Bridge destroyed

6.5 of 10

            From the opening frame, San Andreas nods assuredly at the audience and delivers what people came for.  It takes mere seconds for big, dumb danger to race to the forefront, and the sequence that follows hits you with goofy dialogue, implausible action, and Dwayne Johnson saving the day.  This down and dirty approach works in disaster films, especially when the filmmakers are smart enough to minimize plot and character, providing audiences with fleeting thrills at a much cheaper rate than their local theme park.

            San Andreas is, of course, named after the San Andreas Fault, a tectonic boundary running through the west coast of the US that is prone to large earthquakes.  Paul Giamatti’s Lawrence, a seismologist, gives a rundown of the history and the devastating effects of such quakes early on so you don’t have to rely on your memories of middle school geology.  Lawrence pops in throughout the film to give helpful explanations of just what’s coming, but most of the film focuses on the family of Johnson’s Ray as they try to find each other during the largest recorded earthquake in human history (because what’s the point of a disaster movie if you’re not destroying things at ridiculously epic proportions).

            And destroy things it does, with a CGI triple whammy of LA, San Francisco, and the Hoover Dam getting the shakes.  These three spots give the film plenty of famous landmarks to crumble, and the spacing of these and the rest of the action sequences are the film’s strongest aspect.  They’re close without being too close, maintaining tension and suspense without getting numbing.  The brief interludes are filled in with material that variously does and doesn’t work, but the scale tips just towards working.  Giamatti is used sparingly, but his weathered delivery of portentous lines bounces well off of Archie Panjabi’s stoic reporter.  However, the strongest pauses belong to the young threesome played by Alexandra Daddario, Hugo Johnstone-Burt, and Art Parkinson.  They’re trying to survive the epicenter that is San Francisco, all while Daddario and Johnstone-Burt strike up a surprisingly easy and genuine-feeling romance.  Parkinson is relegated to the little brother tag along, but even he gets what might be the funniest line in the movie.

What doesn’t work as well is the interludes with Johnson’s Ray and Gugino’s Emma, who are trying to get to their daughter (Daddario) while awkwardly bickering about their failed marriage.  It suffers from the insertion of an unnecessary plot point that doesn’t have enough time to be fleshed out and never adds much to the story.  The rest of the plot is intelligently small in scale, focusing on a group of basic but likable characters who let the big action take the forefront.  Too much plot is often a killer in disaster films, grinding the tension to a halt while characters chat about problems that are inconsequential compared to the grand things going on around them.  Ray and Emma’s exchanges often start the gears grinding, but they thankfully never bring the thing to a complete halt.

What’s most disappointing are the times when the CGI budget fails to render director Brad Peyton’s vision.  San Andreas worked with about half the budget of many modern summer blockbusters, but its destruction scale far surpasses most of these films.  This means that Peyton had to rely on lots CGI, and even with that budget concession there are still shots that were obviously a low priority.  There’s the occasional rubbery people and crumbling debris that fall with entirely the wrong amount of weight, but in the film’s defense, most of the sequences seem breathtakingly real, otherwise the film wouldn’t hold together.

No one will come out of San Andreas touting its labyrinthine plot and deep characters, but anyone expecting these things from it must not live in the same world as the rest of us.  The film just wants to give you some thrills and a bit of spectacle, which it delivers in a well-paced, agreeable package.  And then The Rock skydives out of a plane.

Other Notes (Ridiculous Disaster Version)

Ø  There’s a lot of ample-chested women running in bras that aren’t made for running.

Ø  I feel like the laws of physics wouldn’t have allowed them to get over that tsunami wave.

Ø  Why does Ray know how to drive everything?

Ø  How do your legs get stuck by debris without injury or at least a tear in your jeans?

Other Notes (Regular Version)

Ø  Archie Panjabi!

Ø  I appreciate that the main characters, particularly the women, knew what to do and weren’t putting themselves in unnecessary danger.

Ø  No, this is not a movie version of the Grand Theft Auto game.