A tragic event tests the friendship between two 12-year-old boys
When I saw writer-director Minhal Baig’s sophomore feature film, “We Grown Now,” at last year’s Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF), I missed the parental reference its vernacular title invokes. That phrase should have triggered a childhood flashback to the question every kid blessed with a Black mother heard when they sassed or disobeyed her: “Oh, so you think you grown now?” One answer is “yeah, I’m grown now.” But that’s the wrong answer. Don’t ask me how I know. Let’s just say I learned the meaning of the term “rhetorical question.”
“We Grown Now” takes place in Chicago’s Cabrini-Green projects, the setting of the “Candyman” franchise and the inspiration for the television series “Good Times.” An opening-credits screen tells us the history of the publichousing project: It was originally built for workers during World War II. By the 1960s, the majority of tenants living there were Black.
At its peak residency level, 15,000 people lived there. That’s a lot of folks crammed into a small amount of space.
Such is the nature of “vertical housing,” the main characteristic of the high-rise public housing system created during FDR’s presidency. “We got 16 stories,” Eric (Gian Knight Ramirez) tells his best friend, Malik (Blake Cameron James), when the latter describes his dream of living in a two-family house. God help you if you lived on the 16th floor, as the elevator never worked.
Baig pays cheeky “tribute” to this built-in feature of the projects in the film’s opening scene. The two 12-yearold boys are first seen lugging a mattress down several flights of stairs. They continue dragging it across the concrete to an open area. It’s here where the duo practice the art of flying; that is, seeing who can achieve the longest hang time by bouncing off a stack of mattresses.
Malik is the reigning champion of the sport, much to the chagrin of his mother, Dolores (Jurnee Smollett, who also produced the film). She’s the breadwinner in a family that includes her mother, Anita (S. Epatha Merkerson). Eric lives next door with his older sister and widowed father, Jason (Lil Rel Howery). The two boys are inseparable, doing everything together from attending public school to dreaming about seeing the stars through the cracks in the ceiling of Malik’s apartment.
One day, a 7-year-old neighbor of the boys named Dantrell Davis is shot to death in broad daylight in Cabrini-Green. Baig stitches this real-life tragic event into her fictional narrative — Davis was a real victim of gunfire in 1992, the year this film is set. His death brought national attention to Chicago. “We Grown Now” documents the resulting fallout, including unnecessary police raids and the political grandstanding of politicians who had conveniently forgotten Cabrini-Green existed.
“They treat us like roaches in our own home,” Anita says after the police rip her apartment to shreds during a harrowing drug raid.
In dire need of money, Dolores must consider a decision that will alter the friendship of Malik and Eric forever.
Much of “We Grown Now” is seen through the eyes of a 12-year-old. These scenes have a dreamlike quality that evokes the work of Terrence Malick with its flowing camerawork, off-kilter editing, and voice-over narration. While these choices mimic the feeling of the often flighty, fantasy-filled beats of childhood, Baig overdoes it to the point where the film becomes far too mannered.
Additionally, the wistful, often lovely score by Jay Wadley is slathered on the soundtrack in such a heavy-handed way that it becomes grating.
The film fares far better when it’s delivered in a straightforward manner. All the scenes with the adults are tethered to the harsher realities of growing up impoverished and ignored. Smollett, Howery, and especially Merkerson bring a haunting gravity to the film. James and Ramirez are also very good here, carrying the film on their young shoulders.
Baig loves the faces of her performers, shooting them so closely at times that you can see the childhood innocence or world-weary experience written on their visages. Cinematographer Pat Scola does a wonderful job aiding Baig in creating an incredible mise-enscène; this version of the projects looks and feels realistic.
Unfortunately, the visuals and music do much of the work the screenplay should be doing. As a result, some of the more intriguing ideas about the characters and plot are ignored or flattened out. The film feels underwritten, especially where Eric’s family is concerned. The emotional bond between the two boys should have hit me harder than it did.
“A place is the people,” a closing screen credit tells us. It’s a lovely sentiment, but “We Grown Now” feels more like fleeting memories of those people rather than a fully formed reminiscence.