by Ed Travis
“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Malcolm Arakanbe. I’m a straight-A student with nearly perfect SAT scores. I play in a punk band with my friends and I’m a 90s hip hop geek.”
“Malcolm lives in Inglewood, California, in the Darby-Dixon neighborhood referred to as the Bottoms.”
Writer/Director Rick Famuyiwa has his narrator introduce us to his lead with the latter quote. Malcolm introduces himself to Harvard with the former quote. At the crux of Dope is the socio-economic status that threatens to define Malcolm versus the way he defines himself: a future man of Harvard. Also at the crux of Dope are the sickest ’90s hip hop needle drops of any soundtrack in recorded history, energetic high school hijinks, hilarious coming of age shenanigans, and solving the little problem of getting a backpack full of MDMA (or Molly) sold off without getting killed by drug dealers or caught by the authorities. So what I’m getting at is that Dope is one busy movie, filled to overflowing with adventure, style, young love, and some revolutionary racial and political messages as well. It’s wonderful.
With so much going on to keep the energy level at an almost constant high, there are elements of Dope that either strain credulity or favor style over substance. The framing device of Malcolm struggling to write the perfect Harvard essay is a great example of this dynamic. On the one hand, having lead actor Shameik Moore (if there’s justice this will be a huge breakout role for him) speak directly into the camera and read us his final essay to close out the film is cringe worthy, breaking the fourth wall with a stale device. But Famuyiwa turns that on its head and delivers a highly energetic closing sequence, not to mention an essay that perfectly encapsulates the themes of the film and Malcolm’s life while also allowing a straight up “mic drop” to close the film.
Another device used is the aforementioned narration, which provided a slot for a “name” actor such as Forest Whitaker to be involved (he is also a producer on the film). This device, like the Harvard essay, skirts right up to being on the nose, and unlike the essay, doesn’t quite escape being exactly that. For the most part, the narration is unnecessary and further complicates an already busy film. The same sense of skirting right up against being on the nose pervades the pop punk tracks written by Pharrell Williams. They’re catchy and poppy, and they carry with them Williams’ cache, but they also don’t quite seem to fit in with the feel and tone of the rest of the project, or simply feel as authentic as the rest of it. This is offset by the fact that the actors themselves performed the tracks, and that the aforementioned ’90s hip hop needle drops that make up the rest of the film’s soundscape are achingly, majestically perfect.
These flirtations with falsehood don’t ring too loudly, however, and make up just a couple of ingredients in an overall recipe that’s filled with good stuff. When you’ve got great characters, hilarious writing, an engaging story, and a wonderful cast to back it all up, you’ve got a winning movie on your hands. When that movie is written by, directed by, and starring almost entirely African American people, and you realize that the film appeals to a wide audience and is both hugely entertaining and offers an interesting message, you’ve got the future of pop entertainment. Hollywood is actively working at becoming more diverse (too little too late), but folks like Famuyiwa aren’t waiting around for Hollywood. Filmmakers of all walks of life are figuring out ways to get remarkable cinema made that breaks into the mainstream and offers great roles to people of color. One of Dope’s most remarkable traits is how thoroughly “black” it really is, while simultaneously being self-aware and having appeal to a wide audience. I’m not sure when we’ll stop feigning surprise as a society when movies that reflect a more diverse reality break out as mainstream hits. Our movies need to look more like our day to day life, and day to day life in America is increasingly non-white.
Dope feels fresh, thanks in large part to its writer/director, the top notch cast he was able to assemble (with Malcolm’s friends Jib and Diggy played wonderfully by Tony Revolori and Kiersey Clemons respectively, and Zoe Kravitz as a very effective love interest for Malcolm), and the propulsive coming of age/crime story that deftly balances a ’90s aesthetic with cutting edge geekery such as bitcoin and dark web transactions. And perhaps most importantly of all, Dope is an example of a type of cinema that we’re only just seeing break through. A mainstream, mass appeal cinema made by and for audiences of all sorts of ethnicities and socio-economic backgrounds. Dope tells a great story in an energetic way with engaging characters to journey alongside of. The fact that it’s largely told and acted by African Americans is what gives it much of its authenticity and bite, but all of that takes a backseat to Dope being simply a wonderfully entertaining adventure at the cinema.
The Package
Visually, Dope is lively and exciting. The editing and direction are energetic without feeling exhausting. It’s a good looking movie and South Central L.A. once again looks great on film. The Blu-ray is bright and clear, if also totally disappointing in the bonus features department. With two little electronic press kit-style mini-docs, neither clocking in at so much as 5 minutes, the disc feels painfully devoid of extra features. Dope is the kind of movie that just screams for a writer/director commentary track and in depth interviews with the exciting young cast. Instead you get a few minutes of highly edited behind the scenes stuff and a spotlight on the film’s music by Pharrell Williams. I could have watched hours of bonus features about this, one of my favorite movies of 2015. Instead we’re left wanting. Dope deserves more bonus features than this release offers, but the movie itself will not disappoint.
And I’m Out.
Dope hit Blu-ray on October 13th, 2015 and Digital HD on September 29th from Universal Pictures Home Entertainment
