“Do the Right Thing” (1989)
It’s the hottest day of the summer, and all Mookie (Lee) wants to do is get through his work day. Of course, nothing can be that simple in Lee’s memorably fractured, chaotic Brooklyn neighborhood, which provides the backdrop for a bubbling cauldron of class and racial strife. Maybe it’s the hassle from his boss Sal (Danny Aiello), who joylessly serves overpriced pizza slices to young black customers who insist on listening to “jungle music.” Maybe it’s the shared wisdom from local drunk Da Mayor (Ossie Davis), who doles out advice while tightening an iron grip on a brown-bagged beverage. Maybe it’s Mookie’s uneasy relationship with baby mama Tina (Rosie Perez), who berates his lack of upward mobility through her nagging, nasal siren call of a voice. Whatever it is, it’s polluting the air, and it’s easy to see that despite the humor and honesty at the heart of “Do The Right Thing,” the picture is building to an inevitably ugly conclusion. No one, not even Mookie, can be the bigger man in the face of perceived slights, as Lee creates a world where each petty disagreement erases the goodwill coming from Da Mayor’s innocent flirtation with Mother Sister (Ruby Dee), Mookie’s growing bond with Sal’s son Vito (Richard Edson), and the local flair from monosyllabic love-spreader Radio Raheem (Bill Nunn). It’s somewhat unfortunate that “Do The Right Thing” still plays as sharp and incendiary as it did in a Koch-supervised New York City, though Lee’s chronicle of a tragic day absent of heroes still looms large as possibly the last truly great film of the 1980s. [A+]
“Mo’ Better Blues” (1990)
Amid smoky late night bars, jazz trumpeter Bleek Gilliam (Denzel Washington) takes the stage with his Bleek Quintet. Once Bleek places his golden lips against the mouthpiece of his trumpet, he makes magic. Of course, this does little to eliminate the drama in his life — the Quintet continues to struggle, playing gig-to-gig as infighting leads to a more flexible hierarchy, with Bleek’s longtime pal Shadow (an excellent Wesley Snipes) attempting to usurp the spotlight. Bleek, who probably has too much misplaced passion, can’t help but humor childhood friend Giant (Lee), despite Giant being a terrible agent for his band, nearly thousands of dollars in debt. And then there’s the women — does Bleek want the stability provided by Indigo (Joie Lee) or the sumptuous lust of aspiring singer Clarke (Cynda Williams)? Lee’s “Mo’ Better Blues” cuts narrative corners with some of the laziest generalizations of his career, as the dichotomy between Clarke and Indigo is far too simplistic. And there’s an ugly note in the representation of a pair of Jewish club owners played by John and Nicolas Turturro, penny-pinching stereotypes that seem like they’re out of a broader film. But when the Bleek Quntet takes the stage, the music, from Terence Blanchard and Branford Marsalis, is intoxicating, and musicians and jazz fans will note the authenticity and rawness of the backstage scenes, particularly in the friendly friction between Bleek and Shadow, with both Washington and Snipes at the top of their games. [B]
“Jungle Fever” (1991)
Don’t be fooled by that ridiculous, and ridiculously catchy, Stevie Wonder theme song: “Jungle Fever” goes to very dark places in its upsetting parable about urban interracial dating. With “Jungle Fever,” Lee is attempting to explore the responsibilities felt by the modern middle-to-upper class black male, and his avatar is the noble, dignified Flipper (Wesley Snipes). One of New York City’s most successful architects, Flipper is aware his presence in his mostly-white firm is an anomaly, and he stews when his bosses ignore his request for a black secretary. He’s wracked with guilt, however, when he finds himself attracted to Angie (Annabella Sciorra), feeling, in a confused mixture of social activism and ego, that he’s denying his own blackness, and therefore harming the black community. All the while, Flipper and his elderly parents are struggling with the drug-addled state of Gator (Samuel L. Jackson), Flipper’s crack addict brother, who is both charmingly entertaining and seriously dangerous, dancing a jig in one moment and threatening violence in the next. “Jungle Fever” is like a well-prepared meal of several diverse plates, and Lee intentionally overheats a few in order to better illustrate his point about Flipper being a black man struggling to define the proper contemporary definition of his own status. Also, for completists’ sake, among Samuel L. Jackson’s five thousand film credits, this is likely his best performance. [B+]
“Malcolm X” (1992)
Originally slated to be helmed by Norman Jewison, an outraged Spike Lee was given the director’s chair once Jewison bowed out citing script issues. And given the tremendous weight and controversy around the subject — and around Lee himself — the filmmaker had to deliver for what was easily his biggest picture in scope to date. And boy, did he ever. Rewriting the script, directing the film, and even penciling in a small role for himself, “Malcolm X” is a powerful piece of filmmaking. But the film’s sprawling runtime and breadth would never have worked or been as engaging as it is without a committed, commanding lead performance by Denzel Washington. Evoking the Muslim minister and human rights activist in voice, style and mannerism so accurately that it is, at times, downright eerie, his portrayal goes far beyond mere imitation into capturing the spirit, magnetism and intelligence of Malcolm X, in what is easily the defining portrait of the man. Lee’s filmmaking prowess here is among the highlights of his career. He makes a sharp distinction stylistically between Malcolm X’s early life, one full of live jazz music and color, and his post-prison life as a Nation of Islam minister, full of sombre grey tones and an understated score. And his desire to do his best by the film and subject found him battling Warner Bros. to allow him to shoot on location in Mecca. And the result? It’s the first feature film to be allowed to shoot on that sacred ground. A towering achievement that somehow managed only two Oscar nods — for Costume Design and Best Actor (how Washington lost to Al Pacino for “Scent Of A Woman” if beyond us) — Lee’s film is an impressive, must-see biopic of the highest order. [A]
