The next time someone uses 25th
Hour as an example of how
great Spike Lee has been, please remind them that was 2002. And while
that film remains a vital, dramatic look at post-9/11 America it is also the
last time Lee has done anything of real cultural significance as a feature.
Films such as Red Hook Summer and She Hate Me have tried, but were either too
corny or too preachy to be effective, while Lee's for-hire work has also
suffered. Lee has courted a ton of controversy for his latest effort, Chi-Raq, and it's in that
controversy that Lee has regained the fire and passion that spurred his early
career. Despite a tone that wobbles out of balance on occasion, it works as a
stinging indictment of the gun culture and corrupt law enforcement system that
plague this country. Something got Lee real mad, and when he's mad he's real good.
Forget all of the Chicagoans who haven't
seen the movie yet still feel the need to complain; Chi-Raq doesn't minimize the Windy City's
gang violence problem. Using music, satire, and dashes of broad comedy, Lee and
writer Kevin Willmott make an impassioned plea for societal and cultural
change. And no, it doesn't excuse African-Americans for the part they have to
play, but calls on them to take responsibility as shepherds of that change. The
way it makes these points is inconsistent, but the message holds firm
throughout.
Based on Aristophanes' Greek comedy
"Lysistrata", the film draws greater inspiration from Liberian
activist Leymah Roberta Gbowee, who encouraged women to withhold sex from their
men in order to bring about peace. Teyonah Parris (seen recently in Dear White People) play
Lysistrata, a sexy and curvy Chi-Town girl dating a local rap thug meaningfully-named
Chi-Raq (Nick Cannon) because of his gang ties and penchant for gun violence.
Lysistrata doesn't care about any of that; she's too far in lust to see
anything beyond what's immediately in front of her. But after her man becomes
the target of a rival gang (led by a wonky eyepatched Wesley Snipes) and the
young daughter of a nearby mother (Jennifer Hudson) is gunned down in the
crossfire, Lysistrata begins to wake up. With the encouragement of a stoic
neighbor (Angela Bassett) she rallies the women with a cry of "No peace,
no piece", to deny their men sexual pleasure until the violence stops.
"In the style of time, 'Stophanes
made that shit RHYME!", shouts a jubilant Samuel L. Jackson as Dolomedes,
our flamboyant guide/Greek chorus through. The screenplay does indeed use
rhyming verse throughout, and initially it proves problematic in establishing a
firm perspective because it's so distracting and out-of-place in the gritty,
blood-soaked streets of Chicago. But it also adds a certain fairy tale quality
that bolsters the film's ironic nature. That said; Chi-Raq is best when it sets aside the obvious
attempts at humor and goes straight for the gut. John Cusack shows more fire
than he has in years as Reverend Mike Corridan (based on a real-life person),
who delivers a searing plea to the people of Chicago to hold their politicians
and the legal system accountable. Not just about gun violence, the film
encompasses a number of hot-button issues such as the for-profit prison system,
police violence, and corrupt politicians. The #BlackLivesMatter movement is
referenced repeatedly, and so is culturally-ignorant Presidential candidate Ben
Carson who would rather blame his own people than deal with issues
substantively. Often backed by Cannon's powerful anthem, "Pray 4 My
City", Chi-Raq has an urgency and immediacy that
Lee's films have lacked for far too long.
Interestingly, it's when dealing with the
subject of sexual power that the film loses its way. Lysistrata is an intensely
sexual figure and knows it, flaunting that power in the faces of horny and
pig-headed men who challenge her. This includes an inept military, with
Lysistrata seducing an aging, racist general one of the film's weirdest and
least necessary turns. It also includes a men's club of chauvinists (led by the
underrated Steve Harris) who come across as oversexed frat boys rather than
enlightened challengers to the ladies' plot. There's no ideological counter to
what the women are doing; everyone on the opposing side are presented as idiots,
which may be what Lee and Willmott were going for but it does them no good in
making a well-rounded case. And that is what Chi-Raq is aiming to do, when all is said and
done. Tying sex and violence together through humor is an ambitious task that
the film never quite pulls together. 
With everybody from Isiah Whitlock Jr.
(delivering his infamous "Shiiiiittttt" to overlong effect), Roger
Guenveur Smith, Harry Lennix, Dave Chappelle, La La Anthony, and D.B. Sweeney
making appearances. Lee has emptied out his Rolodex in putting together one of
his largest ensembles yet. But it's Teyonah Parris and a surprisingly effective
Nick Cannon who stand tall throughout, navigating the film's many narrative
shifts effortlessly. While it may be necessary to keep Lee's recent filmography
in mind when putting Chi-Raq in proper context, it's the most
obvious proof that the director is inching his way back into top form.
Rating: 3 out of 5
