Mr. T Tells Us "Be Somebody, I Ain't Playin"
Citizen Kane. The Godfather. Apocalypse Now. Ernest Goes to Camp. All undisputed classics, movies that have proven their worth over the years and remain perennial favorites despite the consistent release of hundreds of new movies every year. There are the obvious classics like the ones mentioned above, though there are also cult classics, underground movies such as The Rocky Horror Picture Show or Plan 9 From Outer Space. And then there are those movies that defy every genre, every expectation and even logic itself. Movies so mind-blowingly radical that they have to be seen to believed. Movies like Mr. T's Be Somebody… or Be Somebody's Fool.
Keep in mind that Mr. T's Be Somebody… or Be Somebody's Fool is
the type of movie that can't adequately be described in words. Picture Mr. T
rapping bluntly to an 80's synth-beat surrounded by dozens of singing moppets
on a set that cost roughly $2, and you'll have a rough idea of the first few
minutes. The film, released straight to video in 1984, follows Mr. T's attempts
to teach children that, even though their only friend may be an invisible bunny
named Cyril, they can still be cool in their own way. Note here that "cool"
roughly means "someone who is going to get beaten up if they ever actually
try this stuff in school". A prime example of this is the "Styling"
sequence, which Mr. T begins with the sage advice: "If you don't wear clothes,
you're gonna get arrested". This is promptly followed with a horde of "alternatively
clothed" teens that should have been arrested on principle anyway. Now
look, I know that a requirement of living in the 80's was to dress oneself in
order to induce gag reflexes, but even the costumes in Breakin' 2: Electric
Boogaloo couldn't compare to these homemade horrors. But as bad as these
costumes are, they can't hold a candle to the T's play-by-play commentary. He
describes Marta, wearing random shreds of fabric and roughly a gallon of spray
paint, as "With her mustard socks and her ketchup sash, she is a real hot
dog". Of course she isn't wearing either mustard socks or a ketchup sash,
but nobody needs to tell him that. His description of the next guy Jeff is even
better: "with pants pegged tight and hair and fitness, he is the eighties
nod to fitness splendor". I don't know if this video was translated into
Ancient Greek and then translated back into English by someone who only speaks
French, but that sentence just doesn't seem to mean anything. Maybe it was Jeff's
groundbreaking (by which I mean "excruciatingly painful") dance style
distracting me. After three more subjects that make me embarrassed to call myself
human, Mr. T sums up the performance succinctly: "Hey, that was great.
I liked that."
Don't get me wrong; the whole sequence is great fun to watch. Even better is
the next sequence called "Peer Pressure," which takes place on a pier
(har, har). Five kids are walking along when one finds a can of beer and a pack
of cigarettes lying in plain sight on top of a trash can (somebody please tell
me where this pier is). Four of them become excited and start smoking and drinking,
except one (who is, for some reason, the only minority, and looks about ten
years younger than the other four) who starts to feel uncomfortable. Also on
this pier, by the way, are Mr. T, apparently visible only to the little one,
and New Edition (New Edition!) singing and dancing to a song called "Peer
Pressure". It's a very dense and complicated song, so let me transcribe
the lyrics for you here: "Peer pressure, per pressure / you don't have
to follow their lead / peer pressure, peer pressure / listen to your heart and
believe" (repeat 85 times). Meanwhile, the four kids have become drunk
from a sip of beer each and high from a single cigarette. I wish my tolerance
was that low, I'd never have to spend a dime again. Worse, these now-belligerent
teens have decided to pressure their still-sober friend into joining the debauchery.
Instead of simply asking, they surround him and begin jamming cigarettes down
his throat and forcing him to drink the beer, despite the poor kid's repeated
refusals. This is how we know these are either midgets or robots in kid suits-there
isn't a teenager alive that, finding their friends don't want any beer, wouldn't
secretly think "good" and drink the rest himself. Then again, these
kids are already trashed from a drop of alcohol, so drinking the rest might
actually cause them all to explode anyway. Regardless, the kid finally runs
away under Mr. T's silent approval, and the others promptly get hangovers. New
Edition is probably still on that pier today, singing those seven words over
and over again.
After watching this, along with the "workout" video (which is basically
just an excuse to make fun of the fat kid), I began to wonder: what kind of
a nation are we that we would need something like this video? Sure, I feel much
better about my life now that I've seen how badly Hollywood can warp impressionable
young children. But somebody out there must have taken this seriously. Somebody
must have shown up at school one day wearing a shirt of multicolored rags with
a name tag sown in, singing songs about how great their mother is. And on that
day, that poor child must have learned that only Mr. T himself could get away
with that and still look cool. Hell, Mr. T could tell dead baby jokes at Jerry
Falwell's birthday party and get away unscathed. He could make a movie like
this and still look cool. He did make a movie like this and is still
the man.
If this movie has taught mankind anything, then, it's that Mr. T is the pinnacle
of human evolution. I therefore pity the fool that doesn't watch this movie.
Not only is it the funniest, most absoludicrous thing you will ever see, but
it's another chance to experience the trials and tribulations of the man that
you wish you were, the man that you can never equal. Go see this movie today.
To quote the T, "don't look at him! I'm talking to you!" Oh, and remember:
be somebody. Or Mr. T will punch you in the face.