“What happened to your Christian name?” asks a nonplussed Bishop Enoch Rouse of his smart-mouthed grandson, Flik Royale.
“I rented it out on Facebook,” the youngster retorts.
Thus are both grandfather and the audience introduced for the first time to the protagonist of Red Hook Summer, Spike Lee’s latest joint. If viewers have never seen a black, private-schooled, teenaged Vegan from Atlanta, there’s a first time for everything: Flik’s bespoke character appears designed to disabuse all stereotypes. Visiting his uber-pious grandfather for the first time ever, Flik is a portrait of adolescent angst. He’s an outsider with a steely self-confidence, but struggles to understand the Motley Crew of denizens in his grandfather’s housing project, all but ensures he rubs everybody the wrong way. As any tech-savvy and smart-mouthed kid might, he carries a tablet device (an “iPad TWO”, as Flik pointedly corrects everyone who asks) to chronicle the world around him.
Take one alienated teen, throw in a sassy potential love interest and mix in the neighborhood bully, and you have what appears to be a fairly bathetic coming-of-age yarn about love, secrets and life’s lessons. Yet history teaches us that in Spike Lee’s world, nothing is quite what it seems on the surface, and this is especially true with Red Hook Summer. As ever, the famously irascible eminence grise of black cinema has a parable to preach at you — although surprisingly enough, this one’s not about racism.
WATCH SPIKE LEE TALK ABOUT HOW HOLLYWOOD BAILED ON ‘RED HOOK’ HERE
[MSNBCMSN video=”http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/45977840″ id=”msnbc4d835c” w=”592″ h=”346″ launch_id=”48608411″]
Wait, one might ask, what’s a Spike Lee Joint without tons of racial moralizing? As it happens, not a whole lot. Red Hook Summer recalls Lee’s earlier movies, and even features a few humorous cameos (including the director himself, as well as refugees from She’s Gotta Have It and Do The Right Thing, but no trace of his sister Joie). Most of the actors are either beginners (including Flik and his would-be girlfriend and sidekick, Chazz) or little-known quantities.
The rough-hewn streets of South Brooklyn have none of Inside Man’s slickly-produced, noirish feel. There’s a reason for this: Lee self-financed this vehicle, and has been the main attraction at the grassroots viewing sessions in order to generate word-of-mouth. The low-budget production values – which feature shaky camera work, a slapdash cast with little chemistry or acting chops – don’t build critical mass for what should be an interesting plot. The undernourished narrative doesn’t leave much for either character development or star power.
Flik’s back-story is intriguing on its face, yet the reasons behind why his mother opts to deposit him in Red Hook with a grandfather he’s never met are left unexplored. Then there’s the question of the actors themselves, who never carry the weight of their roles. In all fairness, it’s hard for any teenage actor – let alone an inexperienced one like Jules Brown – to be the emotional nerve center of a major director’s film. The void he leaves is filled by Clarke Peters, who plays his grandfather, Enoch Rouse. Mr. Peters’ performance is arguably the movie’s most compelling, but his presence overshadows that of his young co-stars, who really should be the film’s center-of-gravity.
Just when you think you understand where the plot is going, Lee – who should get an award for the plot twist of the year – throws the audience a curveball that sweeps the movie in an entirely different direction. The minimal advance buzz that preceded the film probably includes this ultimately polarizing plot twist. Without revealing exactly what that is, it’s fair to say its likely to generate sizable controversy. In truth, the subject matter – though resonant and topical – should have been covered in its own movie.
Fairly or not, Red Hook Summer suggests that Spike Lee’s star may be on the wane. In one public appearance tied to the movie’s release, Lee was asked whether, given his track record, he found that Hollywood was resistant to making his films. He responded that he “always knew [Red Hook Summer] had to be done outside the Hollywood system,” and that it would have been a “waste of time to get the studios to finance this film.”
It’s a truism that Spike has fashioned his career in a way that make him the Woody Allen of black cinema. Yet with Red Hook Summer the director has – perhaps unwittingly, perhaps by design – suggests he has more in common cinematically with Spanish filmmaker Pedro Almodovar.
Spoiler etiquette prevents me from revealing exactly which Almodovar film “Red Hook Summer” recalls. Still, anyone who’s ever watched an Almodovar production recognizes the hallmark of ensnaring viewers with its misleadingly lighthearted narrative, snappy dialogue and funny characters. All that eventually gives way to an abrupt, bathetic sucker-punch that pushes the narrative in a decidedly darker, more somber direction. And like several Spike Lee movies, Almodovar’s plots contain a deep undercurrent of religious skepticism . The depiction of churchgoing folks, and the situations in which they find themselves, speak to the hostility of someone who may have lost faith himself.
Perhaps independent was the best route for Lee to travel. Yet given the evidence, it’s hard to argue that Hollywood would not have embraced a quality black movie. The indie film Jumping the Broom, with its stellar black cast, was far better produced (and more critically-acclaimed), and the Tyler Perry juggernaut rolls on unimpeded, even if it has hit a few speed bumps. In light of these factors, Red Hook Summer deserved a better fate than a cast of middling actors and a shoestring budget.