SHAFT (2000)
(Paramount)
Starring: Samuel L. Jackson, Christian Bale, Jeffrey Wright, Vanessa
Williams, Toni Collette, Busta Rhymes.
Screenplay: Richard Price and John Singleton & Shane Salerno, based on
the novel by Ernest Tidyman.
Producers: Scott Rudin and John Singleton.
Director: John Singleton.
MPAA Rating: R (violence, profanity, adult themes)
Running Time: 97 minutes.
Reviewed by Scott Renshaw.
The promotional material for John Singleton's new film includes the
following copy: "Samuel L. Jackson. SHAFT. Any questions?" Assuming the
question isn't rhetorical, I'd like to pose one: Exactly why is this film
called SHAFT, anyway? The original 1971 "blaxploitation" film may look
rough and ridiculously dated to contemporary eyes -- it's hard to take
seriously any film in which the word "whitey" plays such a prominent role
-- but it was a fairly revolutionary portrayal of an African-American
anti-hero as tough, sexual and beholden to absolutely no one. The presence
of Isaac Hayes' famous theme song may tell you this is SHAFT, but is this
story the one described in those famous lyrics?
"Who's the black private dick ..." Not this John Shaft (Samuel
L. Jackson), who is a New York police detective when the film begins,
investigating the death of a young black man outside a bar. The prime
suspect is Walter Wade Jr. (Christian Bale), who walks thanks to his rich
father's connections and spends two years hiding out in Switzerland.
Shaft is ready for him when he finally returns, but getting a conviction
will mean finding witness Diane Palmieri (Toni Collette), who has chosen
to disappear. When Wade is released on bail yet again, Shaft quits the
force and goes vigilante, attempting to locate Diane before Wade can have
her killed by drug lord Peoples Hernandez (Jeffrey Wright). And maybe his
private dick Uncle John (Richard Roundtree) can lend some support.
" ... who's a sex machine to all the chicks ..." The 1971 original
was an audacious film in its low-budget way, including a scene in which
Shaft (Roundtree) has sex with a white woman. It's depressing to realize
that mainstream Hollywood continues to be as timid as it ever was in
portraying the sexuality of black men. Aside from a stylized montage over
the opening credits, Jackson's Shaft is practically asexual. Where
Roundtree's Shaft defied every easy presumption about him -- he was just
as disdainful of low-life brothers as he was of low-life honkies --
Jackson's Shaft makes use of his street connections to bring down a rich
white guy, with no visible personal life getting in the way.
"Who's the cat who won't cop out when there's danger all about ..."
There's plenty of danger all about in SHAFT, with two extremely effective
villains. Bale may be radiating the same arrogant, upscale sleaze he
brought to AMERICAN PSYCHO, but he sure has nailed it. Wade is an easy
reptile to root against, as is Jeffrey Wright's intense Peoples. Some
viewers may find his performance the most outrageous Latino crime boss
parody since Pacino tore up his Cuban accent in SCARFACE. I found
something compelling and creepy about Peoples, from his manic
self-mutilation to his casual con artistry. Between the two of them, Bale
and Wright could have been the anchors of a better-than-average cop
thriller, one that didn't have a title immediately creating a different
set of expectations.
"They say that he's a bad mutha ..." No question, Samuel L. Jackson
can be a bad mutha. His glare is as menacing as anyone's in film today,
easily making him the toughest guy to intimidate in any room. In fact,
there's so much emphasis on making him tough in a mad-as-hell way that
Jackson never captures Shaft's toughness in an I-don't-have-anything-to-
prove-to-anyone way. Throughout the film, it becomes ever more clear that
Singleton has either misunderstood what made John Shaft such an important
screen character or found himself unable to convey that same essence. He
also found himself unable to build a story that means anything, resorting
to a climax that may be intended as a triumph over the system but
ultimately renders the previous 90 minutes of action utterly pointless.
I can't deny that I might have felt much more positively about SHAFT
if it hadn't set itself up for comparison to an iconic film. There are
some solidly entertaining moments here, perhaps enough to satisfy viewers
with little or no awareness of the history behind the title. But there's
that title before the film, a title that just feels wrong for what follows
it on the screen.
"Shut your mouth ..." They're just not talkin' about Shaft. And I
can't dig it.
On the Renshaw scale of 0 to 10 lax-ploitations: 5.
Visit Scott Renshaw's Screening Room
http://www.inconnect.com/~renshaw/
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Have I seen this movie: No
Will I see It: On video probably
