What's to say about "Shaft," the 5th film in the franchise (and third named "Shaft," grumble grumble), except that someone high up at Warner Bros. Pictures thinks that it's just sexist, homophobic, racist, raunchy, and tacky jokes. Samuel L. Jackson (playing Shaft Jr. for the second time) just walks around, cooly swearing, cracking a lot of much of the aforesaid inane punchlines- at least he looks cool. He is about the only reason to see this, if you can get past his vulgarities, of which there are plenty. The catch, or crutch, this time is his son, Shaft III (Jessie Usher), who was abandoned by his pa at a young age (terrific plot for "Father's Day weekend"), finds himself needing his dad's help investigating the allegedly wrongful death of his friend. Oh and I forgot to mention that Shaft, the real Shaft, played by Richard Roundtree- that's three Shafts for the price of one!
This newest Shaft (Shaft Jr. Jr., or Baby Shaft, or Rugrat Shaft or...) is far from up-to-snuff of living up to Samuel's acting giftedness, who's presence on the screen is so weak you often forget he's even a main character (hey, I might not agree with what Samuel is saying, but I do love how he's saying it). But he is the voice of reason, arguing about how "wrong" the overall tone of the film is with Shaft Jr., and although he's ultimately right, by the end of the film sports an itchy trigger-finger, just like his dad. The only voice of reason in the entire flick becomes what he hates- what kind of message is that?? Even Shaft Jr.'s ex-wife Maya (Regina Hall) is a terrible person; oh sure, she pretends that he hates the ways of her previous husband, but literally, and I mean "literally," every other word she says is the "f" word (it'd make a good drinking game I suppose), and she can't help herself but find herself aroused by the "manliness" of Shaft Jr. (and Shaft Jr. doesn't waste any opportunity to remind her). Usually, characters so tawdry exists to counter another character with an opposing point of view. Problem is in "Shaft," crudeness wins by a landslide.
The plot is standard grade murky TV crime-thriller material, with double-crossing, false police reports, shootouts, all the usual suspects. But not only is the tone of the film particularly nasty, but none of the narrative is handled with grace, and most egregiously is how poor the action is handled. To be honest, all three Shafts are practically conscientious objectors here, aside from a handful of gunfights (I counted 2, though with the way this thing is paced, edited and filmed, I wouldn't be surprised if I missed one, or one was cut entirely but the plot forgot). Oh sure, they talk a big game (a racist, homophobic, sexist game) but most of the film is shockingly tasteless dialogue spewed from any of the leading actors or actresses as they drive from one stereotypical "Harlem" building to the next (you know the type, ones with drug-dealers). When we do get to any real action, all the actors move as if their shoes are nailed to the ground; they just stand there, bang bang bang. Bad guys dead. Girl paws over whichever Shaft is theirs (or used to be). How thrilling.
But the audience I saw this with, let me tell you, they laughed and reacted as if they had seen a completely different movie than me. And it was infectious- I found myself laughing with them, even though I disagree with what I was laughing along to. I wondered where my integrity had gone. What happened to my sense of humor? Does this ultimately warrant a recommendation? Well, only if you see it in a crowded theater, and easily succumb to peer pressure.
No comments:
Post a Comment