Movie Review - The Forty-Year-Old Version

After watching the first 15 to 20 minutes of this film, it dawned on me that it felt like something Spke Lee would do if he were a woman and twenty-five years younger. Writer-director Radha Blank's debut feature feels like early Spike Lee, like his films of the 1980's, such as She's Gotta Have It (1986) and Do the Right Thing (1989). It makes sense when I learned that Blank was a writer-producer on Spike Lee's TV show, that of She's Gotta Have It (2017) on Netflix. If she continues as strongly as she is here, she could be that black female voice that comes from that same school but for some reason hasn't risen up as Spike Lee has risen up. However, the reason as to why a black female voice hasn't risen up in the same way is in fact explored in this film. We see echoes of that reason in works, such as Issa Rae's Insecure (2016), but Blank's work here puts that reason into real perspective.

Radha Blank stars as Radha Blank, a fictionalized version of herself. Radha is a playwright who is about to turn 40 years-old. A decade ago, she won an award for a play she authored, but, in the time since, she hasn't been able to parlay that initial success into any further success. She's instead become a struggling writer who makes ends meet through a teaching class where she gets troubled students to create their own play. Yet, it's clear that neither she nor they have any strong interest to be in that classroom. She does have a play that she wants produced for Broadway, but her struggle to get onto the stage and maintain her artistic integrity is one of the main thrusts of this film.

Things change when she gets inspired to create a rap song. It's a moment that actually was reminiscent of the first episode of Insecure. Radha's attempts to pursue rap music as an alternative career is another of the main thrusts of this film. Through her, we get a glimpse into the underground, hip hop world of New York, the hip hop world that is perhaps not so underground and that has perhaps always existed, going all the way back to the 70's. Through her, we also get a glimpse into the hip hop world through the lens of a black woman of a certain age, navigating it with the insecurity and awkwardness that a younger woman wouldn't have. This isn't like Roxanne Roxanne (2018) or Filly Brown (2013). This is instead a lot of what I wanted Patti Cake$ (2017) to be.

Peter Kim (After Forever and Cubby) co-stars as Archie, the best friend to Radha and her talent agent. He's been her best friend since grade school. In fact, the two of them went to high school prom together. It was nothing romantic between them. This is because Archie is gay. Coming from a conservative Korean family, he had to hide who he was and do things to survive or get by. Years later, he's out and proud, but he still had to do things that he doesn't want in order to survive and get by. This time, it's in the world of Broadway, which might not be as conservative as a religious Korean family, but that backstage Broadway world has its own landmines.

The major source of comedy is seeing those landmines and watching them occasionally explode. Most of which are racial microaggressions. On a grander level, it's also about commercialism in theater and who controls the purse-strings often. It's about the compromises that artists often have to make in the name of commerce. Those compromises result in the artist feeling like their expression isn't true to who they are and that the art no longer is representative of who that person is, whether it's along racial lines, gender lines or age lines. Artists put a lot of their identity into their work and those compromises can feel like that person's identity has been chipped or taken away. Otherwise, it's just an example of how certain creatives, particularly creatives of color, can be at the whim of stereotypes and whitewashing.

Oswin Benjamin, in his screen debut, plays D, the music producer that Radha finds through social media. He represents that pure artist who doesn't compromise. He stays true to himself and his roots no matter what. He's there to remind Radha of that. Arguably, his art is one that isn't as susceptible to outside forces. Independent music producers can have more creative control than someone trying to get a show on Broadway, which has way more gatekeepers of white people.

Andre Ward (Pose and The Big Gay Musical) plays Forrest, the head of a black-owned theater in New York. He too represents the pure artist who doesn't compromise, but he's more a symbol of comedy. His ways and his operation are mocked. It seems in this that Blank isn't above poking fun at herself or her type in a sense. That's the generous reading of this character.

What isn't necessarily mocked are the rhymes or raps that Radha and other hip hop artists create in this film. As such, Blank features actual rappers doing battle rap. It's not actors doing battle rap that was written for them. It's actual rappers doing battle rap they created themselves. At least, it feels so genuine and fresh. It almost has to be actual rappers doing their own battle rap. In a scene that feels like Blank capturing documentary footage, we see female battle raps. How staged it was is something I can't tell as it feels completely real. If nothing else, then yes, that's what Blank's film is, a true-to-life and real sensation put onto screen that's not only fresh but also funny, as well as one of the best of the year.

Rated R for pervasive language, sexual content, some drug use and brief nudity.
Running Time: 2 hrs. and 4 mins.

Available on Netflix.