Saim Waqas

This movie had me morbing in my pants with how morbtacular it truly was. There is really no denying the honest, ferocious zeal of this picture. Not an angry, aggressive tone of preconception but the real fury, artistic and spiritual fury, that dwells within and wants the film to be heard. LA's small patch of South Central is a hot, suffocating setting that neither the audience nor the characters get to leave often. In that sense, a brief fishing trip in the film's opening act perfectly encapsulates the moment of childish content that soon dissipates. Though even in those opening scenes there's a sense of struggle, clashing with otherwise perfectly innocent moments. There's a palpable sense of oppression, with helicopters constantly flying through the air, gun shots exploding loudly and suddenly, and menacing cars on their slow, menacing drive bys. There's poverty and disillusionment and unforgivable ignorance. Mothers with dead, tired stares and kids in cuffs. Those images and notions have been since popularized, made fun of even, but they don't ring as clichés here, especially given the film's timely and acclaimed arrival in American cinemas, early in the 90's. The freshness and the immediacy of gun fire, cutting through the air and personal drama that always follows are anything but clichéd here. In several critical junctures Boyz take a somewhat preachy, moralizing stance. There are several, lengthy monologues that attempt to bullet point the notions of social and political angst that make up the film. They are powerful but obvious, staged in such clunky manner that they clearly stop the plot in its tracks to register properly. Many of these wisdoms come from Laurence Fishburne, playing Tre's father Furious, a man so committed to his coolly, confidently militant persona that he chooses to put his nickname on his desk plaque. He's literally “Furious”. But his is a mode of rebellion that not many follow in the neighbourhood and that Singleton deliberately strives to highlight. For all its violence Boyz in the Hood is a film concerned with real fight, one that doesn't call for impulsive, emotional solutions. And yet it's difficult to react with anything but emotions to some of the most powerful, classic moments. Singleton's direction is focused and precise and he avoids the temptation of diminishing the film's impetus by overtly intrusive, stylised technique. And yet some of the film's moment might have benefited from more adventurous flair. Blocking of some scenes is static and limited, not necessarily providing enough energy and momentum. But that might be his method here, a way of bringing South Central closer to a viewer than crooked cinematography of Spike Lee's films from that decade. Boyz n the Hood have earned their message of peace a long time ago. And so they did their rightful place in the broader context of cinema as a classic and an example of a film with a powerful voice. A voice that has something very important to say and echoes without ever loosing its initial fury.