Director John Singleton
Singleton on the set with actor Laurence Fishburne (right)
Singleton with actor Ice Cube (left)
Left to right, Singleton with actors Cuba Gooding Jr, Ice Cube, and Morris Chestnut
Left to right, Singleton with actors Ice Cube and Cuba Gooding Jr.
Regina King (far left), Ice Cube (left to right), John Singleton, and Cuba Gooding Jr.
Director John Singleton
BOYZ N THE
HOOD
A-
USA (112 mi) 1991 d: John Singleton
Spike Lee’s universally acclaimed Do the
Right Thing (1989) may have introduced the everyday world of black lives
into mainstream America, personified by the infamous opening dance montage by
the incomparable Rosie Perez to the thundering Public Enemy hip-hop anthem
“Fight the Power,” Do the Right Thing (1989)
opening credits YouTube (4:23), but it was John Singleton’s BOYZ N THE HOOD
(1991) that cemented that legacy into cultural relevance, accentuating the
socioeconomic challenges that ravaged low-income black communities in the 80’s
and 90’s, exploring ineffective and racially divisive policing, a
school-to-prison pipeline of young black men, a devastating lack of basic
necessities, while highlighting the importance of parenting in child
development, showing how easy it is to get caught up in a cycle of
violence. In the 90’s, West coast musical artists like Ice-T and NWA
introduced gangsta rap, lyrics that exaggerated gang violence and cop killing,
taking the bravado from the streets of Compton and selling millions in the
white suburbs. This film actually preceded that musical explosion pitting
the East coast rappers against the West, where rap and crime violence became
synonymous with black culture, culminating with the murders of the two biggest
rap stars, Tupac Shakur in a drive-by shooting in Las Vegas and The Notorious
B.I.G, gunned down in Los Angeles after leaving a party. In the 70’s and
80’s, black men were dropped from the work force in droves, experiencing
staggering numbers of unemployment, where one out of four even stopped looking
for work, with earnings plummeting more than 30%, while at the same time black
men were sent to prison in disproportionate numbers, accounting for nearly 50%
of the prison population while composing only 12% of the nation’s
population. In large metropolitan areas, only 14% of white males have
ever been arrested, compared to 51% of black males, while a black male baby
born today stands a 1 in 3 chance of going to jail. Black-on-black
homicide is the leading cause of death for black males between the ages of 15
and 34, accounting for a prominent screen title at the film’s opening, “One out
of every 21 black American males will be murdered in their lifetime. Most
will die at the hands of another black male.” The early 90’s sparked a
new genre of films set in the hood, with Hollywood hiring black writers and
directors, accentuating black inner-city life, all similarly male-focused and
ghettoized, exploring conditions of poverty, crime, racism, and violence, using
rappers turned actors and youth culture rap music for authenticity, something
Spike Lee disparagingly described as “hiphop, urban drama, ghetto film,” but
this genre quickly flamed out, displaced perhaps by a saturation of urban
television dramas that accentuated street crime and police procedurals, like Hill Street Blues (1981 – 1987) or Miami Vice (1984 – 1990), opening up the
door for twenty seasons of Law &
Order (1990 – 2010). Having grown up in the violence-ridden South
Central section of Los Angeles, Singleton cited two films that inaccurately
portrayed his neighborhood, Dennis Hopper’s COLORS (1988), which was more
interested in the lurid world of LA gang warfare from the skewed perspective of
two cops, and Mario Van Peeples’ NEW JACK CITY (1991) exposing the overly
violent horrors of the crack epidemic. Motivated to get it right, to make
an impactful film residents in black communities could relate to and find
meaningful, basically telling the story of their lives, he decided to direct
the film himself, using familiar landmarks and actual locations, released just
months after the videotaped Rodney King beating by the LAPD, becoming one of
the most memorable film debuts, earning the director a Best Director
nomination, the youngest (at the age of 24) ever nominated, also the first
black nominee, openly disappointed that he did not win, as the prize was
awarded to Jonathan Demme for THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS (1991). The film
is bolder and more explosively relevant than any other film Singleton would
make, never finding the same groove, where the personalized nature of the
subject matter is what elevates this film into iconic cultural status, added to
the National Film Registry a decade later (Films Selected for the
National Film Registry in 2002 (January ...).
The focus of the film is on black male adolescent
upbringing, expressed through the styles and attitudes of rap culture, becoming
a brilliantly executed and fully-realized coming-of-age portrait, showing
maturity and depth, though giving short shrift to women, referred to in
derogatory terms, often portrayed using typical stereotypes, while several male
characters are fully developed, revealing the complexities of their inner city
experience, where black communities are besieged by poverty and economic
blight, a deprivation of decent housing and health care options, a lack of
educational opportunities, including high drop-out rates that lead to
joblessness and incarceration. More than any other films of the time,
Singleton’s more subtle and complex take on urban black neighborhoods feels
accurate, largely avoiding drugs and prostitution, refusing the stylized
romanticism used by others. The film actually challenges the prevailing
stereotype of black masculinity, romanticized through aggressively ghettoized
portrayals of Blaxploitation films, reduced to fantasy caricatures, with
Singleton rendering something closer to real life here. Many felt the
movie glorified guns, but it’s just the opposite, revealing the devastating
impact they have on the community, destroying lives and families, shredding any
possibility of hope for something better. Among the director’s shrewdest
decisions was casting rapper Ice Cube as Doughboy, a neighborhood dope seller,
seen much earlier in his life as a kid caught shoplifting while trying to
obtain something to eat, sent off to prison afterwards, an overly punitive and
excessively harsh reaction to ordinary survival needs, contrasted by a soothing
ballad by the Five Stairsteps, Boyz N Tha Hood Ooh Child
scene - YouTube (1:46). Yet the authenticity he brings to the role is
simply outstanding, as he’s a curious and thoughtful kid who is simply denied
ordinary access, making do with what he’s got, seemingly aimless and
unambitious, yet it’s his heartbreaking speech at the end that provides real
depth and probing honesty, where his final screen appearance is eloquently
poetic, as he literally fades away into invisibility. Doughboy has a
brother from another father, Ricky (Morris Chestnut), both living with their
overchallenged mother Brenda (Tyra Ferrell) who is plagued by her own demons,
openly favoring one child over another, which may contribute to festering
resentments, yet Ricky’s exploits on the football field may win him a
scholarship to nearby USC, where O. J. Simpson became the university’s second
Heisman trophy winner in 1968 after Mike Garrett, a school known for producing
NFL-ready running backs. The centerpiece of the film, however, is a kid
living across the street, Tre (Cuba Gooding Jr.). Early on Tre gets into
trouble at school and gets suspended, where his white teacher offers a racially
clueless understanding of the situation filled with stereotypical assumptions,
causing Tre’s mother Reva (Angela Bassett) to pull him out of school so he can
live with his separated father, Furious Styles (Laurence Fishburne), believing
he needs a male role model. These kids grow up and do everything
together, hassled by older gangbangers on the street, taunted and intimidated,
eventually threatened by guns and reckless, out-of-control behavior, where
every perceived slight or insult is followed by a barrage of drive-by gunfire
that results in senseless deaths. This kind of tragedy plays out on their
streets everyday, where these accumulating murders are pulling families apart,
losing so many kids at a young age, and with them their hopes and dreams.
From the outset, the film is punctuated by an aggressive sound design that
includes gunshots, neighborhood screams, police sirens, the whirring
helicopters flying overhead, peppered by the sounds of routine arguments and
disagreements, all sounds of everyday life, while an exuberant rap-heavy
soundtrack fuels each and every sequence.
Despite living across the street, it’s evident both groups
of kids receive substantially different parenting, as Tre’s parents are both
involved, maintaining a mature relationship with each other even as they have
bitter personal differences, with both providing guidance along the way, as
well as unconditional love. The love both his parents offer is in sharp
contrast to the lackluster parenting on display with Ricky and Doughboy across
the street, neither one having any contact with their absent fathers, with
their negligent mother showing little or no interest in setting goals or
boundaries. Tre is the beneficiary of parents who take the time to show
they care, with Furious Styles making the most of his role, showing an educated
understanding of how things work in black neighborhoods, where there’s no
shortage of gun shops and liquor stores, suggesting blacks killing one another
is no accident but by design, Boyz n the
Hood (3/8) Movie CLIP - Gentrification (1991) HD YouTube (2:41), as they’re
fighting for the available crumbs that filter through their communities, where
drugs are the major economic industry. Tre’s father is the missing
ingredient in black communities, with so many father’s missing, some killed,
some imprisoned, some serving in the military, and some just missing, but
Furious is a strong presence in the young boy’s life, loving but firm,
instilling discipline and moral values while teaching his son personal
responsibility. Paternal love is hardly a panacea for the totality of problems
plaguing the black community, but it’s a significant factor, where one thing is
clear, the differing parental styles offer different results by the end of the
picture, effectively making the point that parenting matters, and kids with two
involved parents are in the best position to navigate their way through the
inevitable obstacles kids have to face. Other core factors show how
clearly the black community lacks social justice, as there’s a Wild West
mentality of various gangs terrorizing the neighborhoods, wreaking havoc with
each new generation, subjecting them to an ongoing pattern of death and
brutality where nothing is fair, where there’s no justice, but it constantly
grates on your nerves, wearing you down from the constant pressure.
Compare that to white communities with the best schools, manicured lawns,
successful business commerce everywhere, multiple grocery stores or health care
options, plenty of nearby hospitals, where kids have every available activity
offered, putting them in a position to succeed, even if their parents are
screwed up. In Tre’s world, there is no sense of moral accountability, as
police are bullying and threatening, even black officers, sadistically enjoying
making them squirm in fear, victimized by prejudice and abuse, where there is
simply no value or concern for human life. Blacks are routinely
dehumanized, subjected to harsher criminal penalties, which alters the fabric
of their families and communities, creating marginalized lives, as this unequal
treatment reflects the over-criminalization of black life, offering less hope,
with substantially fewer avenues to succeed. Certainly Ricky and
Doughboy’s premature incarceration in an attempt to stave off hunger does not
happen in white neighborhoods, where there is an abundance of food and
opportunities. In white neighborhoods, troubled kids receive every
advantage, living in a different world where police are polite and respectful,
where crime is actually prevented instead of ignored. In a sense, this is
a black version of the George Lucas film AMERICAN GRAFFITI (1973), both keying
on adolescence, where the characters are so memorable, becoming etched into the
social fabric of American culture, offering such uniquely different life
experiences, one black and one white. Despite highlighting these bleak
inequities in an explosively realistic exposé nearly 30 years ago, there’s been
little progress, as the underlying problems plaguing black communities continue
to go unaddressed, including excessive police brutality and the criminalization
of black lives, where despite overt denials from prominent governmental
officials, there are two separate and unequal systems of justice in America.
If anything, conditions have actually gotten much worse, as the divisions
between rich and poor have only escalated since then.
