Chi-Raq

If you took a Sunday newspaper op-ed on Chicago gang violence and tried to turn it into a feature-length motion picture, you would get something like “Chi-Raq” (2015). I don’t fault Spike Lee for trying. It’s a worthy subject and his idea of using the ancient Greek play “Lyisistrata,” in which women use sex as a weapon – withholding it until their men declare peace – is inspired. But as a movie, it seemed more like an unfinished work. Lee has a bunch of creative ideas he is trying to work out on film, but never develops any kind of narrative flow.

 

Undercover Blues

One night, Stanley Tucci will be at a Manhattan cocktail party. All his frufru friends and New York Times execs will be telling him what a great artist he is. Then somebody’s boozy boyfriend will mention “Undercover Blues” (1993), where Tucci plays a version of Tony Montana that is more schtickup than stickup. He’ll think back to that awful movie, serving as slapstick foil to Dennis Quaid and Kathleen Turner. As he’s about to punch the drunk, he’ll suddenly feel a hand on his shoulder. “Fuck it,” Dave Chappelle, his movie hoodlum sidekick will say, “we’re still getting residual checks.”

Undercover Brother

Sometimes it’s good to not overanalyze things. Just shut up and watch the movie. “Undercover Brother” is a good example. It’s a stupid/funny 2002 homage to the 1970s blaxploitation movies in which self-assured black protagonists crack the case and stick it to The Man. It’s not a microcosm of anything, it’s not a symbol of anything, you’re not supposed to be sitting there wondering whether you should be laughing or whether laughing would confirm some ulterior motive by the filmmaker to show that you’re racially insensitive. Like I said, all you honkies just shut up, watch the movie, and laugh.