
NOTE: This is a reprint of my review from the Sundance Film Festival.
It was exactly one year ago in Park City when word about the
performance of young Quvenzhane Wallis in
Beasts of the Southern Wild
began to swell. When all is said and done, we may be hearing the name Skylan
Brooks honored in much the same way for his earnest and tough portrayal of an
inner city youth in
The Inevitable Defeat of Mister and Pete, the latest
in a growing line of star-studded urban ensembles in the wake of
Precious'
success. Directed by George Tillman Jr., the film reaches deep into the gloomy
depths of ghetto despair, and despite an energetic Alicia Keyes score, fails to
completely balance it with the necessary hopefulness.

From the very first frame, it's clear that the oddly named Mister (Brooks) is
in for a rough life. Crying over being held back from passing the 8th grade,
Mister has refused help all of his young life. A perpetual chip on his shoulder
as edgy as the shock of hair on his head, he lives a miserable existence in a rundown
apartment complex populated by drug dealers, pimps, and thieves. Kids his age
are a rarity; most having been shipped off to a child detention center at
Riverview after their parents were arrested for any number of things. Riverview
seems like inevitability for Mister, his mother (Jennifer Hudson) a strung out heroin
addict who turns tricks for rent and dinner money. In an especially shocking
moment in a film full of them, Mister catches his mother in a restaurant
bathroom stall, satisfying another patron so they can pay for that night's
meal.

A scowl permanently plastered on his adolescent face, Mister is the embodiment
of poverty's corrosive effects. With no responsible figure in his life, the
fact he hasn't already succumbed to the pull of the streets is a miracle, but
the fight has clearly beaten him down. The only communication he has with kids
his own age is with Pete (Ethan Dizon), a weak and rudderless Koran boy his
mother occasionally babysits for. A few years younger than Mister and with a
similar home situation, Pete looks up to him as a mentor of sorts.

When Mister's mother is suddenly busted by the cops, the two are suddenly
forced to deal with the full brunt of their hopeless predicament. Hiding from
the police, who seem to be lurking at every corner, the two boys pull every
trick in the book to survive the hot summer and keep food in their bellies
until Mister's mother returns. Like an urban
Life is Beautiful, Mister
attempts to shield Pete from the gravity of their situation, pretending to be
in total control as the refrigerator runs bare, the power is turned off, and
the local thugs begin to loot what little they have. The boys turn to crime, but
that's a disaster. A local grocer becomes a constant thorn in their side, along
with a local thug (
The Wire's Julito McCullum) who hates them for
unknown reasons. All the while, Mister remains vigilant in the hopes of one day
striking it big as an actor in a Beverly Hills television series, reciting
lines from
Fargo as a means of practicing his craft. His only lifeline
of support is Alice (Jordin Sparks), a girl who escaped the same projects and
appears to have made a better life for herself.

Brooks is simply incredible, a star-making turn delivered with impact that will
be felt for a long time. He more than holds his own opposite some of today's
finest actors, including Jeffrey Wright as a homeless military vet, and Anthony
Mackie as the neighborhood crime lord. Sparks is far better here than she was
in
Sparkle, and Hudson is solid in a role many will compare to
Mo'Nique's Oscar-winning performance in
Precious.

Michael Starrbury's uneven script beats you over the head with doom and gloom,
to the point where you become insensate to it all. It's tough to watch as the
boys grow weaker, dirtier, and shockingly thin for what feels like an eternity.
A few moments of levity and open-heartedness intercede, but they're never given
equal emotional force, which becomes a problem as the film builds to what is
meant to be an uplifting conclusion. 'Mister and Pete' never gels into the
dramatic, hopeful piece it intends to be, but it's saved by good intentions and
Brooks' revelatory performance.
