As
one whose job it is to think too much about movies, I gotta
admit that I was a little wary of “Straight Outta
Compton,” the new film about pioneering West Coast rappers N.W.A. There’s
rarely any variation in the plot trajectory of a musical biopic — adversity,
opportunity, prosperity, conflict, redemption — and the trailers did nothing to
make it look as though “Straight Outta Compton” would
be the one to reinvent a predictable wheel. Add to that the fact that the film
is produced by its occasionally controversial subjects, which is tantamount to
commissioning a painting of yourself: You’re probably gonna
look real good, with nary a wrinkle in sight. And though the portrayals do
flirt at times with relative hagiography, “Straight Outta
Compton” is, in actuality, as vital, bracing, and relevant as the essential
1988 recording for which it’s named.
The theater lights have barely dimmed
before Eric Wright, a k a Eazy-E (Jason Mitchell),
gets a gun in his face during a dope deal that’s headed south when the LAPD and
its battering ram show up. It’s 1986 in Compton, California, and Andre Young, a
k a Dr. Dre (Corey Hawkins), is a club DJ barely supporting his young family,
while O’Shea Jackson, a k a Ice Cube (O’Shea Jackson Jr.), is still in high
school, scribbling lyrics during his spare time. One night everyone converges
on the club, including MC Ren (Aldis Hodge) and DJ Yella (Neil Brown Jr.), and Dre approaches Eazy about investing some of his hard-earned drug money
into studio time and a record label for the aspiring producer. And the rest, as
they say, is history …
… Except when it isn’t. It’s worth remembering
that “Straight Outta Compton” isn’t a documentary, so
while you distinctly recall a half-dozen men on the album cover, only five get
any real time in the sun here. (Later for you, Arabian Prince!) N.W.A’s
unofficial sixth man in this film is fast-talking manager Jerry Heller (Paul Giamatti, bringing depth and velour track suits to a mildly
villainous role), who befriends Eazy and guides him
through the perils of the record industry, increasingly to the exclusion of the
rest of N.W.A. But Dre, Cube, Ren, and Yella are too
busy crafting what they call “reality rap,” angry anthems that reflect the
racism and harassment they and their peers (and now their descendants, sadly)
encounter on a daily basis, most notably at the hands of those who have
otherwise pledged to protect and serve.
And as the legendary track “Fuck Tha Police” gains national attention, N.W.A finds itself in
the proverbial crosshairs of law enforcement agencies, demonstrated by an
exhilarating set piece in which N.W.A defies the orders of Detroit’s finest by
performing the song in a 1989 gig at the Joe Louis Arena. It’s not long after
Detroit that financial beef drives a wedge between the suspicious Cube and the
slippery Heller, signaling the beginning of the end as N.W.A and the gone-solo
Cube spit venomously clever dis rhymes at each other, Dre forms Death Row
Records with noted sociopath Suge Knight (R. Marcos
Taylor, in a monstrous turn), and Eazy tries to keep
the gravy train on track before succumbing to complications from AIDS in 1995.
“Straight Outta
Compton” lags a bit whenever anyone stops to discuss dull business stuff, but
that’s mostly because it pales in comparison to the first part of the film —
basically an origin story assembling the Avengers of Crenshaw Boulevard — which
is so tight that it makes the nearly two-and-a-half-hour running time zip by.
The film pretty much glosses over the more troubling aspects of N.W.A’s legacy
— the charges of anti-Semitism, homophobia, and famously violent misogyny — its
apparent agenda is to ensure that the late Eazy-E
takes his rightful place in rap history alongside Dre and Cube.
Director F. Gary Gray (he and Cube
made 1995’s sleeper hit “Friday” together; bye, Felicia!) gets a fantastically
nuanced — and often hilarious — performance out of the previously unknown Jason
Mitchell, anchoring the film as the smart, ambitious, but ultimately tragic Eazy. And though Corey Hawkins falls short of Dre’s
magnetism, O’Shea Jackson Jr. absolutely nails his father’s cadence, delivery,
and expressions, most notably that sarcastic sneer typically rippling across
Cube’s face. Simply put, you don’t need to be an N.W.A fan to appreciate this
gritty, inspiring rags-to-riches tale. But who doesn’t dig on N.W.A?
This article appears in Aug 19-25, 2015.
