DIFFERENT KIND OF DOPE
Coming-of-age story based in L.A. defies genre convention with underlying message,
Dope
(out of 4) Starring Shameik Moore, Tony Revolori, Kiersey Clemons, Zoe Kravitz and A$AP Rocky. Written and directed by Rick Famuyiwa. At GTA theatres. 105 minutes. 14A Higher school senior Malcolm (Shameik Moore) is pretty complicated for a self-proclaimed geek.
“I’m just Malcolm,” the magnetic protagonist of Dope insists, but everybody around him doesn’t seem to believe it.
Who does he think he is, wanting to go to Harvard? That’s the question posed by the guidance counsellor at his school in the Bottoms, a crimeridden neighbourhood of Inglewood, Calif., in southwest Los Angeles.
Why does Malcolm like 1990s hiphop so much and dress like a backup dancer in an M.C. Hammer video? Local dope dealer Dom (rapper A$AP Rocky) wants to know.
And what does Malcolm plan to do with the big bag of valuable street drugs he and his equally geeky pals Jib (Tony Revolori) and Diggy (Kiersey Clemons) have suddenly acquired?
Answers: He’s a straight “A” student with ambition, the ’90s were “The Golden Age of Hip-Hop” and, um, he’s not quite sure.
This last response fuels the first half of this Sundance 2015 sensation, which unfolds like an urban update to Risky Business, an acknowledged influence on writer/director Rick Famuyiwa.
Then everything starts to change, in ways that make this something of a shaggy Dope story. Famuyiwa, who previously wrote Brown Sugar, is out to defy genre convention — this starts as a comedy, becomes something else — and also to make a meaningful statement about what it means to be young, black and struggling in America.
A narrative as freewheeling as this one might ordinarily daze and confuse. But Malcolm makes for such a forceful character, it’s easy to go along with whatever direction he’s headed in.
This includes romantic interest in a girl named Nakia (Zoe Kravitz), who could get him into a lot of trouble. As if he didn’t already have enough problems with Dom.
The film also finds time to comment on such 21st-century fascinations as YouTube, iPhone video (and tracking) and Bitcoin currency.
Even when Dope seems to be attempting too much, maybe sampling too much of its own stash, Malcolm’s irrepressible spirit draws everything back into focus.
The visuals are equally liberated — camerawoman Rachel Morrison goes in for split screens and odd angles — and so is the soundtrack. Pharrell Williams tweaks the noise, while Public Enemy, Digital Underground, A Tribe Called Quest and others contribute classic beats.
Malcolm and his mates are in a punk trio. It’s called Awreeoh, which is pronounced Oreo.
You didn’t expect it to be obvious, did you? Dope isn’t that kind of movie. Good on it, and hop to it.