Teenage girls take centre stage in “Catherine Called Birdy” and “On the Come Up”

But, if “On the Come Up” is both slice-of-life-ofBlack-America and teenaged-girl-semi-bildungsroman, scriptwriter Kay Oyegun (her feature-debut) carves out the space and the lives of this world with enough generosity that each stray moment, where a new character appears or another nuance is added, feels rich and vibrant. And it’s a vibrancy that Lathan, in her feature debut, meets.

It’s hard not to feel waves of nostalgia for a time-period when these kinds of Black films were the norms – when at any point something like “The Wood”, or “Crooklyn”, or “Love & Basketball”, or “Eve’s Bayou”, or “Boyz n the Hood” would emerge. Certainly, these films weave very different stories, but the energy of these films tell different stories but Lathan’s own history in that rich era of the 90s/early 00s feels part of the fabric of “On the Come Up”. Even though her work here lacks the kind of proficiency that establishes the coming-of-age paradigms in “Eve’s Bayou” or “Love & Basketball”, Lathan offers a tender perspective on Black girlhood. Like the prerequisite moment where Bri has her makeover-to-superstar moment in a new dress. The camera follows her down the elevator, but there’s nothing lurid or sensational about this transformation, only a gentle warmth that feels so important to the way that Lathan knows exactly who this girl is – as a teenager on the brink of maturity.

And it’s in those moments that emphasise Bri as child, not adult, that “On the Come Up” is best. There is the easy chemistry in the laughs (and squabbles) with her friends played excellently Miles Gutierrez-Riley and Michael Cooper Jr. There is also the childish resentment in her scenes with Lathan, as her beleaguered and guilty recovering-addict-mother. And then the awe and the doubt in her scenes with Method Man’s Supreme, the symbol of success and adulation in the rap game that Bri hopes for. Best of all are Bri’s scenes opposite an excellent Da’Vine Joy Randolph as her aunt, and sometimes manager. If “On the Come Up” feels slightly frenetic when put together, it’s a sign of Bri’s own inconstance – her doubts about family and her own ambition. The film mirrors that tentativeness, but also that earnestness, and in that mirroring is thrilling. The final sequence, ambitious in its sincerity, is the best of this. In “On the Come Up”, Bri’s very existence as a girl etching out a space for herself feels like the most important thing in the world. And it’s hard not to believe in that importance when the film is so sincere about it.