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BABY
BOY
7/10
USA
2001
director,
script, producer : John Singleton
cinematography : Charles E Mills
editing : Bruce Cannon
music : David Arnold
lead actors : Tyrese Gibson, A J Johnson, Taraji P Henson, Ving Rhames
129 minutes
After
the disappointingly over-blown, under-written Shaft,
Singleton bounces back to form in some style with Baby Boy, a much
more low-key, personal kind of project featuring terrific ensemble playing
from a uniformly strong cast. In fact, there haven’t been so many fine
performances in a US film since perhaps Magnolia
or even Short Cuts - Baby Boy isn’t in that kind of
league, but it’s still a surprisingly engaging piece of work.
Not
that you’d guess as much from the gimmicky opening shot of a fully-grown
adult sleeping happily in a womb, surrounded by amniotic fluids. Once
we get past this ham-fisted bit of symbolism, we find out the man is Jody
(Gibson), a cocky LA twentysomething who’s already fathered two kids –
to different mothers – but still lives at home with his own ‘mama,’ the
vivacious Juanita (Johnson). Jody’s hovering on the edge of commitment
to Yvette (Henson), but isn’t quite ready to accept the responsibilities
of adult life. Nor is he thrilled when Juanita starts dating ex-con Melvin
(Rhames), an imposing figure who’s keen to advise Jody on his options.
Meanwhile, further complications are provided by the arrival on the scene
of violent hot-head Rodney (Snoop Dogg), an old flame of Yvette’s who’s
fresh out of jail and hungry for action…
These
aren’t the most original themes, characters or situations, but that isn’t
the point. This is a movie about relationships, and it’s rare to
find this subject handled so convincingly, and with such a lack of sentimentality.
The kid may not be especially bright or moral, but he’s essentially decent,
and we watch as he slowly develops respect for himself and for those around
him, specifically the women in his life - who aren’t any kind of saints
themselves.
 Gibson
strikes just the right notes, showing that behind Jody’s brash, good-humoured
exterior lie a mass of insecurities and vulnerabilities. Henson matches
him every step of the way, making the most of a potentially two-dimensional
role, while Rhames exudes his usual force-field of charisma as the blazingly
self-confident Melvin. But it’s Snoop Dogg who pretty much steals the
movie as the loathsome Rodney, the rapper revelling in this lanky sleazebag’s
vicious amorality, imbuing his every look and gesture with slow-burning
malice.
Singleton
wisely lets the actors get on with things, and doesn’t get in their way
with any camera fussiness, instead using it to emphasise the characters’
conflict or closeness. He deploys a couple of distractingly clumsy ‘red
sky’ filters late on , but apart from that cheap opening ‘womb shot,’
his biggest mistake is his intrusively repetitive over-use of what’s essentially
a nicely understated synthesiser score. It’s as if he doesn’t quite trust
his material, which is a mistake. Baby Boy wins us over by building
a vivid portrait of particular people living in a particular world, a
world in which pragmatism and humour live side by side with the constant
threat of arbitrary, jarring violence.
Though
we hear some distant sirens, we never see any cops – and the end of the
movie sees a killer not punished but ‘saved’ in church. Things don’t progress
– or turn out – quite as we expect: Jody’s development towards (relative)
maturity is a jagged business of fits and starts, and at each stage Singleton
nimbly drops in brief flashes which show his potential fate, and that
of those around him. Interestingly, while Jody has these glimpses during
his sleep, we share Yvette’s intuitions while she has sex. These interpolations
intriguingly mirror how we anticipate things working out for Jody
– there’s a pretty outrageous one right at the end, which is basically
a rug-pulling cheat, but Singleton carries it off with just the right
amount of chutzpah.
15th
August, 2001
(seen Aug-9-01, Sony Screening Room, London)
by Neil
Young
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