Tag: urban

Choppa City Queens

  By

★½
“Black to very basics.”

We return to the prolific well of Jeff Profitt, last seen here with Keisha Takes the Block. And by prolific, I mean that the IMDb lists now fewer than thirteen upcoming projects he is slated to direct. Fortunately for my backlog, most of these do not appear to be candidates for the site: I do confess some curiosity as to what Trap House Pizza is about. Anyway, both Choppa and Keisha are among the six features he directed in 2023, a number he exceeded last year. Quality is clearly subsidiary to quantity, and this has much the same problems as the last film we covered here, In particular, it’s mostly talk and not enough action.

You have three friends: Leah (Robinson), Jada (Alysha) and Shanice (Collins), all of whom are out of work and seeking a way to make money. Leah literally stumbles across a cache of weapons belonging to gun dealer Ricky (Profitt), and convinces him to let her sell his merch in the ‘hood. For the “Choppas” of the title are Kalashnikov AK-47’s, the weapon of choice for the discerning gang-banger. After the initial sale goes well, Leah gets a bigger order, and has to ask for the guns on credit. Which is a problem, first when Leah’s buyer delays paying for the weapons, and then Shanice’s boyfriend Ray discovers what she’s doing, and decides he wants in on the action. That eventually leads to the only bit of AK action this provides.

The skeleton of a decent movie is present here. It’s possible to read the above synopsis and see how it could be done in an exciting manner. For instance, tensions escalate among the group as the lure of the profits from their new, illegal, but hopefully temporary business, drags them over to the dark side, when the trio only wanted to make a living. It’s a classic tale of the slippery slope into criminality, with the net of the authorities closing inexorably around the participants. Unfortunately, the resources here do not allow for anything like that. It’s telling that the women are buying just three (3) guns at a time, and there are absolutely no cops to be found here at all. 

Meanwhile, the script is strictly of the Point A to Point B variety, without real energy. The trio of lead actresses are okay: there are a few scenes where you can believe they genuinely are friends. The main problem on the performance side is Profitt himself, who is a contender for the world’s least convincing gun-runner. Used cars? Perhaps. Cellphones? Certainly. But now illegal firearms. He’s also very white, and I speak as someone whose skin colour is legally classified as “transparent.” If they’d made him an Aryan Nation type… that would have been a wrinkle. That, however, would be too much like hard work for a film which seems to be uninterested in anything except the path of least resistance to an underwhelming ending.

Dir: Jeff Profitt
Star: Tuckeya Robinson, Jasmine Alysha, Chanel Collins, Jeff Profitt

Imani

  By

★★½
“The Long Goodnight Kiss”

I’m not sure whether this is too long or too short for its own good. Could be a little bit of both. As the tag-line for this review suggests, it bears more than a superficial resemblance to a certain other action heroine film. Faith Newford (Hall) is your everyday, upper middle-class woman: married to a loving husband, physician Bryce (Shipp), with a young daughter, and running a shoe store on the side. Let’s not trouble ourselves about the mysterious amnesia, which leaves a large chunk of her past a blank slate. The problem is, Faith – or Imani, as she was previously known when she was a special ops soldier, is not supposed to be alive at all.

A blow to the head suffered during an abduction attempt triggers the return of her old skills, albeit at the cost of sending her on the run. Turns out she was in possession of information which could prove seriously detrimental to the political ambitions of General Michelle Dupree (Mirto). It’s why Imani and the rest of her squad were supposed to have been eliminated. If dodging Dupree’s goons wasn’t enough, there is another shadowy yet powerful group, who have an interest in Imani from the other direction, intending to use what she knows against Dupree. It’s all rather too over-complex, and I suspect they’d have been better off either simplifying the plot, or making it a mini-series. Hence my opening sentence.

The makers do get some things right, not least there has clearly been a decent amount of resources put into this. It doesn’t look cheap, and they also largely avoid most cliches of black action cinema. Though, inevitably, you still get drug dealers, rap music and The Man – or, in this case, The Woman – they are more incidental, and not the focus. Hall is okay as the heroine. If no Geena Davis, she generally acquits herself adequately in most of the action scenes, at least when she’s not trying to go toe-to-toe with obviously far larger and stronger opponents. For example, Raymond ‘Supreme’ Avant Jr (Lofton), who looks like he could eat Imani for breakfast, and pick his teeth clean with her spine. Yeah, their fight was a tad cringe.

At least the cinematic amnesia wasn’t too grating. For the movie simply has someone sit the heroine down and explain the past, rather than relying on the contrivance of her remembering it when convenient. Sometimes, simple is better. However, the film isn’t good at managing all the threads in the plot carpet, and it proved too much for my poor little mind to handle. I think my brain threw up a blue screen of death somewhere in the middle, during one of the more expository sections, about who was doing what to whom and why: my interest and attention never fully recovered thereafter. I did find the ending satisfyingly bleak – there’s always someone more shadowy and powerful than you – but I’d not call this more than adequate.

Dir: Mike Ho
Star: Brittany S. Hall, Demetrius Shipp Jr., Kris D. Lofton, Elyse Mirto

Glow Street

  By

★★½
“Women of Glow, not Women of GLOW…”

This would be a creditable little film, if the makers could ever be bothered to finish it. Yeah, it ends in what is supposed, I presume, to be some kind of cliffhanger. But it botches the landing badly, first by leaping forward two weeks instead of showing us the climax to which things have been leading up. Then, it just… ends, without resolution in any of the major plot threads. It’s a shame, because to that point, if doing nothing particularly new, this is competent in its execution, and I’ve seen a lot worse. It gets the basics right, with a half-decent story and characters: in the urban genre, this is sadly less common than you would hope.

It takes place in Atlanta, where the fictional Glow Street is the centre of the drug trade, with various factions fighting for control, with their battles spilling over into the neighbourhood, where innocent bystanders sometimes bear the brunt. After a brief “Tsk-tsk” about this in a detective’s speech at the beginning, however, morality is hard to find here. Instead, we’re plunged into the activities of Jahdai (Lynn) and her colleagues, who initially act as enforcers for Troy. But after they disobey a direct order from him, in order to take care of some personal business, they are no longer employed. In need of cash to meet their own liabilities, they decide to rob a stash house. Naturally, this doesn’t go as planned.

The main thing this probably has going for it is Lynn. She has some spectacular skin art, so looks the part, and has the attitude to match. Jahdai is certainly not somebody I would want to cross, yet manages to become someone who is not one-dimensional (another common problem in this sub-genre). Indeed, there are a slew of subplots, including a mother with lung cancer, a father who just got out of jail, and so on. It probably takes about forty minutes for the main story – the stash-house robbery, and subsequent betrayal – to kick in. Then there’s Trav (Stagg), the brother of someone killed in an earlier incident, who is out for revenge on Jahdai, largely what leads to the non-ending discussed above.

Escobar does an acceptable job of keeping the various threads coherent, and there’s no shortage of enthusiastic carnage. On the downside, there’s far too much unconvincing CGI blood, while often leaves the film looking like a Grand Theft Auto side-mission. All told, however, I was kept reasonably entertained and engaged, and it definitely looks and sounds like a professional work, rather than shot on somebody’s phone. Until things fall apart at the end, I would have been interested in seeing subsequent tales from this hood. But the writers’ inability to finish the job, leave me wary that further entries might end up pulling a similar trick. Tell me a complete story, dammit – if it’s good enough, I don’t need tricks to drag me back for more. 

Dir: Vincent Escobar
Star: Destinee Lynn, Kierra Shiday, Caleb Stagg, Natasha Eli Pearson

Keisha Takes the Block

  By

★½
“Talk is cheap, and so is this.”

Reviewing director Profitt’s filmography on the IMDb is an interesting experience. He seems to have started off in the paranormal, drifted through pseudo-reality TV with titles like Untold Undercover Police Stories, and has now found a niche in the low-budget urban gangster field, for which Tubi seems to have an inexhaustible appetite. But the promise very much exceeds the product. Case in point: while the woman on the cover here is the main character, she does not even touch a gun until, literally, the final shot of the movie. Profitt has instead realized that the best way to stretch his budget is to have long scenes of two characters talking to each other.

So that’s what you get here. A lot. It begins with Keisha (Seaton) talking to a fellow “prisoner” in “jail”. Quotes used advisedly, because after an establishing shot of the outside of a prison, the whole scene takes place in an entirely generic corner of a room. No guards. No bars. Could be a community college classroom. This sets the tone for the next thirty minutes, almost without exception: two people have a conversation. Two different people have a conversation. Two people have a conversation outside. Two people have a conversation on a couch. If you can think of a (slight) variation on two people having a conversation, you are likely to see it used here. It almost becomes hypnotic.

The story unfolds entirely through the resulting dialogue. Keisha is seeking to expand her criminal operations, but is facing push-back from the current boss, Quan (Settles). So she recruits his abused girlfriend, Rayna (Yvonne) to provide inside information on his activities. Meanwhile, her pet dirty cop, Ronny (Profitt), also tells Keisha heat will be coming from law enforcement, especially as the cold war between her and Quan heats up. Keisha’s long-time best friend begs her to leave the criminal life before it all catches up to her, and she begins to realize she needs an exit strategy. All of which sounds considerably more exciting than it is, because it’s far, far too dialogue heavy, and even these scenes are flat and largely lacking in dramatic energy.

The performances aren’t bad, and mercifully, Profitt doesn’t lean on the “my friends’ rap music” soundtrack typically used in this genre. Indeed, the lack of music, while probably another money-saving device, is sometimes effective. But there just is not enough going on here to hold the audience’s interest. The supposed battle for territory between Quan and Keisha doesn’t appear to use more than one clip of ammunition. Then again, both sides could probably hold their gang meetings in a phone-booth, such is the lack of resources here.  It is something of a shame, as there are elements here capable of generating dramatic conflict, in the right hands, and as noted, the actresses generally deliver their lines well. But Profitt the director seriously needs to fire Profitt the writer.

Dir: Jeff Profitt
Star: Brandi Seaton, Vicky Yvonne, Bernard Q. Settles, Jeff Profitt

Birth of a Savage

  By

★★
“Not really very savage at all”

This is one of those films where the same person wrote, directed and starred in it, and once again, the results illustrate the problems with such an endeavour. Almost any project will benefit from an external perspective which can offer constructive criticism, but when this is removed, the flaws typically end up multiplied. That said, this isn’t terrible. I think Riches the screenwriter comes out best, with a story which bypasses the usual cliches of urban storylines e.g. gangster rising out of the gutter, and does offer some genuine surprises. Director Riches also gets some points for restraint on the soundtrack front; it’s not comprised entirely of her mates rapping badly. 

It’s as an actress that Riches is weakest. The story has her playing Tiana, a woman whose entirely life has been dogged by poor relationships with men, from a distant father through bad boyfriends, to a controlling and eventually abusive husband, who kicks her and young daughter Erica (Session) out on the street. The only thing keeping Tiana sane is the classes she gives at the local martial arts school, owned by Mr. Lewis (Hoo), and she decided to use these skills to make bad men pay for their behaviour. This comes close to home, because she suspects that her sister, Rochelle (Amor), is also in an abusive relationship. These suspicions prove well-founded, though in one of those genuine surprises, not quite as Tiana believes.

The problem is that Tiana is never even slightly convincing as a bad-ass. Her idea of martial-arts training is, I kid you not, jumping jacks, and most of the fights we see are poorly-staged and/or brief, I suspect out of necessity. It’s the kind of film which needs to go a lot harder than the lead actress is capable of. “Concerned mother” is within her acting range; “angel of vengeance” is not. I did appreciate how the script does not attempt to go #AllMen on us, with a couple of sympathetic male characters. Mr. Lewis is probably the most well-developed, though he does fall right into the wheel-house of the “wise Oriental spouting philosophical insights” trope instead. But he does deliver some unexpected truths.

The structure is either clunky or interesting, and I’m not sure which. It begins with her abducting one of her targets, then leaps back decades to tell Tiana’s story from the very beginning. I’m not certain anything useful is gained by this, and by the time it circles back, we’ve largely forgotten why we are supposed to care. The final act is the best in most departments, including Riches apparently doing one actual stunt which genuinely surprised me, and proceedings that capture a down-to-earth tone, missing in dumb plot threads like Mr. Lewis giving the dojo to Tiana. To be brutally honest, I’d not blame the viewer if they’d bailed by that point, having decided Riches needs to focus her talents on one area.

Dir: Jezar Riches
Star: Jezar Riches, Howard Hoo, Cheri Amor, Dalaini Session

 

The Bag Girls 2

  By

★★½
“Not so bag.”

Back when I reviewed The Bag Girls, I was not particularly impressed and spent a fair bit of time riffing off the lead actresses’s names, which says a lot about how forgettable the film was. I expected more of the same here, but especially toward the end, there was some indication of genuine progress. While we’re still not talking great, there were positives, which deserve to be acknowledged. You likely do need to have seen the original, as this assumes you know who the characters are: Dee (The Doll) , Nola (The Boss) and the rest of the quartet are still robbing for a living, sporting bejewelled masks, and referring to each other by high-end handbag names. However, trouble hits when a strong-box they loot turns out to belong to Colombian cartel queen, Solera Castillo (Garcia), who is not happy with this apparent disrespect. Meanwhile, the authorities, particularly in the form of Detective Lewis (Wilson), are also on the trail of the Bag Girls.

It’s a reasonable enough plot, and when the film sticks to this, it’s quite watchable. Women take the lead on the three corners of the story-line’s triangle, anchored by decent performances from those involved. It all ends up in the Bag Girls taking the fight to Castillo’s mansion, after she has begun extracting her own vengeance, while Lewis awaits the arrival of backup. I can’t complain about the imagery of Solera, rising out of her hot-tub to spray automatic gunfire at her attackers, wearing an expression Harley Quinn would likely deem excessively enthusiastic. Though she and the Bag Girls really need to focus on their accuracy, possessing skills that would get them kicked out of Imperial Stormtrooper school. However, the film’s reliance on digital muzzle flashes and CGI blood (if at all), resulting in no property damage is disappointing, though likely inevitable given the budget here still is on the low end.

The problem is the film takes way too long to get to the good stuff, diverting en route to far less interesting subplots and side-stories. There’s an entire separate robbery of some rapper’s party, that is neither necessary to the plot, nor staged in ways that are even slightly interesting. I must also say, the music in large part feels remarkably bland; while I’ve criticized this kind of film before for an excessive reliance on obvious music, this does need something with a harder edge to fit the tone. I do also suspect that, if the events at the end unfolded in real life, a Latin drug cartel would be unlikely to allow the perpetrators to skip away to enjoy drinks on a Mexican beach. Maybe I’ve just seen too many episodes of Ozark. Though this is not about “real life” in the slightest, more a glammed-up version of the gangster lifestyle. If still lacking the resources to sell that dream, everyone involved seems to have made progress from last time, and if not eagerly anticipating Bag Girls 3, I’m not dreading it.

Dir: Wil Lewis
Star: Crystal The Doll, LA Love The Boss, Jenicia Garcia, Chevonne Wilson

Kiss of Death

  By

★★½
“Issues of trust”

The relationship between Mykah (Leason) and Jameson (Chandler) is quickly heading for the rocks, as the honesty between them has evaporated. He suspects her of lying to him and having an affair: and he’s half-right. For Mykah is misleading him about the reason for her odd hours, though it is work-related as she claims. It’s just that her job is as an assassin, who kills the husbands of battered women, assisted by family friend Lady (Frazier). After successfully offing a prospective politician, Mykah’s next job is Dyson (Jackson), after his wife Chantelle tearfully tells her story of abuse, and offers to pay half a million dollars for a job well done. 

Mykah is initially not keen on accepting the offer, partly because she’s trying to fix her marriage, partly because Dyson is a notorious crime boss. But it turns out Chantelle has incriminating footage of Mykah’s last hit, giving the assassin no option. As she gets closer to her target, things begin to get murkier. Dyson reveals he knows about Mykah’s early family life, which ended when her parents died in a murder-suicide. Or was that actually what happened? In addition, are Chantelle’s motives justice and escape, or are they considerably more mercenary? And will Mykah be able to get to the bottom of all this before Jameson stumbles to the entirely wrong conclusion and crashes the situation? It’s a lot of questions, and I did like the script here, which manages to keep a complex story clear.

However, it is fair to say that it does take way too long to get to the interesting stuff, with the first half being populated largely be banal chit-chat between Mykah and either Jameson or Dyson. Throw in a teenage daughter, and the soap-opera elements are in danger of toppling this over before it can get going. There’s definitely a shortage of action, between the opening murder and the final confronatation when the truth gets revealed. Virtually all we get is a brief fight between Mykah and a pair of Dyson’s minions, after he begins to suspects she is not what she seems to be. It’s okay: I liked Mykah pausing to remove her heels before going into battle. It just needs more.

Director Sesma has a fairly long track record of low-budget action, and technically it’s competent enough. That’s particularly true, when compared so some of the other urban genre entries we’ve seen here, and at least he avoids the obvious cliches of drugs and gangs. But if you compare this to, say, the Thai TV movies we’re previously reviewed, such as The Secret Weapon, also about an assassin, the gap in energy and action becomes inescapable. Perhaps it’s a budgetary thing. If this had not apparently been so reliant on the mantra that “talk is cheap,” then it could have been more than just an acceptable time-passer overall, with only the last third measuring up to scratch.

Dir: Christian Sesma
Star: Sheila Leason, Kevin Blake Chandler, Dontelle Jackson, Cheryl Frazier

Ebony Hustle 2: Ballistic Protection

  By

★★
“A slight improvement.”

There are times when I end up asking myself deep philosophical questions, like “Why am I doing this?” or “Isn’t there something else on which I can use my time?” In this case it, was “Who thought a sequel to the painful exercise which was Ebony Hustle was necessary?” To be fair though, this is an improvement. A half-star might be pushing it, to the point I did wonder about introducing a ★¾ rating. Or possibly a ★ and 11/16. It’s not good, to be clear. But it’s definitely less aggressively incompetent, with some of the most annoying rough edges smoothed down. For example, the audio this time mostly (although not entirely) lives around the same level, and there’s only one Facetime scene.

We are once more in the world of Ebony Howard (Lamb), a private eye who still doesn’t appear to be much private eye-ing. Of the three strands in this story, just one involves paying work, Ebony seeking to serve papers on a baby daddy to compel him to take a paternity test. There is also her investigation into the unexplained disappearance of Onyx, a friend from her strip-club days. This gets kicked up after she discovers Onyx’s phone with a video on it. Just do not expect closure for this thread, because the film ends in a way suggesting it will be a key element of Ebony Hustle 3: This Time We’re Semi-Competent, no doubt coming soon to a low-rent streaming service near you.

The bulk of it is, again, Ebony’ relationship drama. In this case, it’s with Mac (Howard), a promising basketball prospect who is being pressured to take performance-enhancing drugs by his manager, Bryan Calvin (Polo). This makes him become highly irritable, and causes Ebony so start digging into what’s going on, and Calvin does not take kindly to this interference with his meal ticket. With the help of her former strip-club boss, who is now a health guru, Ebony finds out the truth about what Mac is taking, and confronts Calvin. This is likely the only scene in which the film’s subtitle comes close to being relevant, as it’s the only time where the heroine wields a gun, or even gets physical.

The movie does a reasonably good job of managing the story, though the Onyx plot-line is largely ignored in the second half, until a late text message for sequel purposes. Lamb and Howard are not painful to watch, the latter being quite credible as a baller (though I notice the gender-neutral league he’s trying out for doesn’t appear to extend its equality to white women…). But there are way too many false steps, such as the lengthy scene which feels more like a presentation for a health supplement MLM, and the film remains in desperate need of more action and less dialogue.  At least you can now probably see Foxy Brown from here, though you remain in need of a telescope for that.

Dir: John Wayne S. III
Star: Michelle l Lamb, Jessica Mitchell, Jahaziel Howard, Polo

Bang Bang Betty

  By

★★½
“Why not Kill-shot Kiara?”

If I was feeling mean, I’d have tagged this as “Pretty shitty Bang Bang”. But while undoubtedly amusing, that wouldn’t be 100% fair. For in the field of low-budget urban action heroines, this is actually better than most. Now, by broader standards, that’s still not exactly great. However, I’ve seen enough of the genre to appreciate and welcome mere technical proficiency. Simply by having decent audio, I was already impressed. It’s the story of Kiara Sommers (Nunno-Brown), a former soldier who is now a prosecuting attorney. During a meet with one of her informants, she is shot and left for dead, but rescued by another veteran, Ray Smith (Parrish) and nursed back to health. [I’ve vague memories of a Chow Yun-Fat film with this plot]

She’s then able to take revenge on the man responsible, local crime-lord Darnell (Walzer). Which is a bit awkward, because he is her boyfriend. There’s also Valerie Mendez (Hernandez), who used to be a colleague of Kiara in the army, and is now walking a dangerous line, playing for both sides, as a cop and an inside woman for Darnell. It feels as if considerably more thought has gone into this than many in this field, whose plot could typically be written on the back of a beer-mat, and leave room for your pint. Some other elements also deserve praise, such as a soundtrack which isn’t just the director’s rapper mates on shuffle (though there is still a fair bit of that).

While Nunoo-Brown and Hernandez are decent enough in their roles, there are several elements that manage to stop this reaching three stars, which would be close to an all-time high for the genre. There’s a serious question over Kiara’s complete ignorance of her boyfriend being a organized crime boss. I mean, really? Some of the supporting cast are not very good: Walzer in particular struggles with his delivery. There’s also a point where a significant character is killed in front of another. It should have a devastating impact, yet their lack of reaction is notable. A few minutes later in the film, they’re cracking wise with Kiara and Valerie. The bruising on Valerie’s face is a continuity disaster. 

My biggest issue, however, was the bad CGI. The muzzle flashes were marginally acceptable, but the explosions are poor, and the CGI blood close to the worst I’ve ever seen. Having no blood at all would have been a vast improvement. It’s a particular shame, as some of the hand-to-hand action is decent enough (again, compared to what I’ve seen previously), with both lead actresses occasionally impressing. I did laugh when Valerie attempted a lucha libre throw on Darnell’s henchman, only to be tossed aside, and told “That superhero shit doesn’t work in real life, does it?” More of this degree of self-awareness might have been welcome, yet it’s probably wise not to ask for too much. I’ll settle for competence, and there’s just enough here to leave me mildly interested in the sequel, already in post-production: Bang Bang Betty – Valerie’s Revenge.

Dir: Alexander T. Hwang
Star: Kakra Nunoo-Brown, Gerald Parrish, Emily Rose Hernandez, Marc Anthony Walzer

Dope Girls

  By

★★
“Welcome to the dope show.”

This shouldn’t be confused with the BBC series of the same name announced last year. This is very definitely American, another in the ongoing series of urban crime movies which seem to pop up, with some regularity on the likes of Tubi. I keep watching them, in the hope they’ll be good, but am usually disappointed, mostly due to cheap-jack production values and repetitive story-lines. This is at least watchable in the former department, though is definitely marked down for a startlingly abrupt “To be continued” ending. I hate cliff-hangers in books: they do not work any better on movies, and this isn’t exactly Dune Part One, shall we say. Not least because it runs only 75 minutes, including end-credits.

It’s the story of Dee (Pinckney), who comes out of jail with a grudge, and sets about trying to take over the drug trade in the city where she lives (I think it’s Philadelphia). The first obstacle standing in her way is CJ (Whitehurst); after she succeeds in facing him down, he hires an assassin to take her out. But the assassin is not a fan of CJ’s, so looks to switch sides and play for Dee. In her corner, she also has her cousin, Stephanie (Hicks), and a select group of other women with appropriate skills. The one of most note is Stasha Fields, also known as Star (Feindt), a dirty cop who is looking to make it on her own terms.

These make for an interesting set of characters. The film’s main problem is not doing nearly enough with them. Considering how short this runs, there is an awful lot of sitting around, talking about doing things, and not nearly enough actual doing of these things. Outside of the opening scene, in which Dee goes to confront CJ in his apartment, I’m hard-pushed to think of more than a couple of other significant moments of action. Although someone does get shot towards the end, it’s in a non-lethal manner, which is something of a surprise in this genre, since it usually can be depended on for a significant body-count. Here: not so much. There’s even preciously little dealing of the dope.

You’re therefore left largely to rely on the drama for interest, and that’s a bit of a mixed bag. As mentioned, there does seem to have been some thought put into the personnel. Pinckney and Feindt at least can reach convincing on some occasions, while director Deniro – and I’m wagering that is probably not his real name – knows the value of silence, rather than burying every scene in rap music, another staple of the field. In the end though, we reach the closing caption, without having moved an adequate distance from where we were after the first scene. We know a lot more people, to be sure. But to what extent do we know them? Maybe we’ll find out in Dope Girls 2. Maybe I can be bothered to watch it.

Dir: Black Deniro
Star: Kenisha Pinckney, Eva Lin Feindt, Joaquin Whitehurst, Taria Hicks