Showing posts with label lawrence hilton-jacobs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lawrence hilton-jacobs. Show all posts

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Claudine (1974)



          Charming, engrossing, and socially relevant, the small-scale dramedy Claudine is an anomaly among ’70s pictures about African-American life. Eschewing the militant politics of underground films and the sleazy grit of blaxploitation flicks, Claudine tells a simple human story in an accessible style. Further, the movie is rooted in respect for individuals who survive life below the poverty line with their dignity intact. Although this is an unmistakably a black story, exploring the myriad ways social ills complicate life for a family in Harlem, the themes of Claudineare relatable to anyone who has faced difficulty balancing family and finances. If the movie has a noteworthy flaw, it’s that Claudine sometimes employs sitcom-style cuteness in terms of dialogue and presentation—but the underlying story is so grounded that the cuteness is at most an occasional distraction.
          Diahann Carroll, who received an Oscar nomination for her performance, plays Claudine Price, the single mother of six who’s squeaking by on welfare after being abandoned by every man to whom she’s been married or with whom she’s been romantically involved. The beautiful but tough Claudine catches the eye of jovial trash collector Rupert Marshall (James Earl Jones), who eventually persuades Claudine to go out on a date. Rupert encounters resistance as soon as he meets Claudine’s kids, who haven’t met many trustworthy men. Nonetheless, Rupert wins over all of Claudine’s spirited offspring except her oldest son, Charles (Laurence Hilton-Jacobs), who has a chip on his shoulder the size of Manhattan Island.
          Aside from the lively performances and sensitive writing, the most interesting aspect of Claudine is the film’s exploration of what welfare means in the life of a woman like Claudine. She can’t make enough money through menial jobs to support her children, so she needs government assistance, but even welfare can’t bridge the gap between expenses and income. Therefore, Claudine must lie to her welfare officer once she starts dating Rupert, because, technically, his participation in the family represents additional income—even though his presence in the long run isn’t guaranteed. It’s fascinating to watch a proud woman navigate this moral quagmire, and it’s informative to see how Rupert recognizes that his interest in Claudine carries economic baggage. Given the feather-light premises of most romantic comedies, which tend to involve characters with all the options in the world, Claudinerepresents an unusually plugged-in take on the rom-com genre.
            It’s also a great pleasure to see the chemistry between Carroll and Jones. Not to downplay the many virtues of Carroll’s leading performance, the mixture of anguish and approachability within Jones’ performance gives Claudine much of its texture. Guiding these actors is director John Berry, a veteran of the studio era who was blacklisted for his left-leaning politics in the ’50s; Claudinewas one of several African-American-themed movies Berry directed upon his return from Hollywood exile. Another notable Claudine player is composer Curtis Mayfield, who created the score as well as a handful of songs that are performed by Gladys Knight & the Pips.

Claudine: GROOVY

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Youngblood (1978)



          It’s hard to figure what the makers of Youngblood were after, because while the picture strives to portray a group of young African-Americans as fully realized individuals, the movie also traffics in stereotypes. After all, the overarching narrative involves an impressionable Los Angeles teenager who gets drawn into street violence, and the most dynamic scene in the film features a chaotic street fight between rival gangs. So is Youngblood a serious-minded melodrama designed to spotlight social ills, or is it merely a gussied-up riff on blaxploitation? Chances are the picture represents a well-meaning attempt at merging both things. However, parsing such nuances might not be worth the trouble, because even though Youngblood eventually arrives at a mildly exciting climax, the first hour of the movie is numbingly dull. The story’s protagonist is Michael (Bryan O’Dell), a latchkey teen who’s acting out at school and getting into trouble while roaming the crime- and drug-infested streets of his neighborhood at night. Michael joins a gang called the Kingsmen after proving his bravery during a fight, and the gang’s top guy, Rommel (Lawrence Hilton-Jacobs), accepts Michael as a protégé. Meanwhile, Michael’s older brother, Reggie (David Pendleton), seems to have escaped the ghetto for life as a businessman—but in actuality, Reggie’s a middleman for a drug cartel.
          You can pretty much guess where it goes from here. Michael gets pulled deeper and deeper into gang violence, his brother tries to keep him out of trouble (while also concealing his illegal activities), and Rommel turns out to be a terrible role model. No surprise, things end badly. Despite the trite storyline, there’s some decent stuff in Youngblood, a lot of it related to Hilton-Jacobs’ character. (The actor was riding high on TV’s Welcome Back, Kotter at the time, and was therefore the biggest name in the cast.) His character, Rommel, is portrayed as a conflicted Vietnam vet who’s slowly realizing he’s outgrown gang life, so the pertinent dramatic question is how much hardship he will cause for the people who emulate him until he learns the error of his ways. Ultimately, though, the drab elements of Youngblood drown out the meritorious ones. Just to name two examples, the star-crossed-lovers subplot about Michael’s love for a girl whose brother belongs to a rival gang is hopelessly contrived, and the song-driven soundtrack by R&B group War gets old fast—how many aimlessly funky jams can one movie handle?

Youngblood: FUNKY