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Film/TV Film/TV/Etc. Blog

Watch the First Trailer for Coming 2 America

Arsenio Hall and Eddie Murphy reprise their roles as Semmi and Prince Akeem in Coming 2 America.

If the COVID-19 pandemic never happened, you would be gearing up to watch Coming 2 America in the theater right now. The sequel to director John Landis’ hit 1988 comedy Coming to America was a long time coming. But it took the pairing of Eddie Murphy and Memphis director Craig Brewer to make it happen. 2019’s Dolemite is My Name, in which Brewer directed Murphy the legendary Blaxpoitation star, was a major hit for Netflix. Murphy had such a good experience with Brewer in the big chair he finally agreed to do the follow-up to his most beloved film.

Shooting was almost done on what was planned to be Paramount’s big Christmas release when the pandemic hit last March. Filming was eventually completed in late summer, but with the theatrical business still in pandemic limbo, Paramount decided to sell the project to Amazon for a whopping $125 million. It will bow on Amazon Prime March 5, 2021.

Coming 2 America stars Murphy as Prince Hakeem, the scion of the African kingdom of Zemunda, (which now looks a lot like Wakanda without the super-science.) He has lived happily ever after with his love interest from the original, Lisa (Shari Headly). The couple have three children, all daughters, and that’s a problem in patriarchal Zamunda. King Joffee (James Earl Jones) is dying, and Hakeem is set to take the throne. The King wants to solve the problem of the lack of a male heir by marrying Hakeem’s oldest daughter Meeka (KiKi Layne) to the son of Wesley Snipes, who plays the warlord of a neighboring nation. But the succession plans are thrown into chaos when it is discovered that Hakeem does, in fact, have a male heir: Lavelle (Jermaine Fowler), a child he fathered the first time he came to America. Now, he and his trusted manservant Semmi (Arsenio Hall) must return to the states to find Lavelle’s mother, played by SNL comedian Leslie Jones. Murphy and Hall again play multiple roles, which means yes, Sexual Chocolate is happening! Peep the first trailer:

Watch the First Trailer for Coming 2 America

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Film/TV Film/TV/Etc. Blog

Never Seen It: Watching Being There with Craig Brewer

Peter Sellers as Chance the Gardener in Being There.

Craig Brewer is Memphis’ most successful filmmaker. His 2005 film Hustle & Flow earned 

Three 6 Mafia an Academy Award for Best Song for “Hard Out Here For a Pimp” and gave us the Bluff City anthem “Whoop That Trick.” His critically acclaimed 2019 film Dolemite Is My Name gave Eddie Murphy the comeback vehicle he deserved and blackspoitation auteur Rudy Ray Moore the most inspiring biopic of the decade. He reunited with Murphy to direct Coming 2 America, the long-rumored sequel to the beloved 1988 comedy, which is scheduled to be released by Paramount this December. 

For this edition of Never Seen It, we sat down to watch a classic movie he had somehow missed over the years: Hal Ashby’s 1979 masterpiece Being There. Our conversation has been edited for clarity and length.

Chris McCoy:  What do you know about Being There?

Craig Brewer: I know that it is a movie with Peter Sellers, and I know it’s the movie that, when I say I haven’t seen it, I get the most shocked looks and a little bit of consternation and judgment.

McCoy: What do people say? What’s their judgment?

Brewer: Well, they assume that I’ve seen it. They assume that I love it, and that I will love it. They always bring up Hal Ashby. I like his movies, so why haven’t you seen this one? And to be honest with you, I never associated it with Hal Ashby. I’ve owned it both in VHS and DVD and Blu-ray, and I have the Criterion release in L.A., but I don’t know why I never popped it in. I see images from it constantly.

130 minutes later…

McCoy: Craig Brewer, you are now somebody who’s seen Being There. What did you think?

Brewer: I really enjoyed it. It made me think about a lot of other movies. There’s what I enjoy about watching it, and then there’s what I’m kind of in awe of that has nothing to do with me just sitting down, being a normal viewer. That’s knowing how difficult one particular job was on this movie. If you watch the credits — and unfortunately, you don’t get to really see her credit because there’s this reel at the end of an outtake that you can’t help but enjoy. But it is very hard to get a single credit during a scroll in a movie. Not many people get that. I remember having to fight to get Sam Phillips, because I dedicated Hustle & Flow to Sam Phillips. Hustle & Flow has a scroll in its closing credits, but I wanted there to be a completely blank moment where it says this film is dedicated to the memory of Sam Phillips. I had to kind of jump through hoops to get that kind of credit. I don’t know if you’re aware, but there was one in the scroll.

McCoy: I was watching the blooper reel.

Brewer: Yeah. It’s Dianne Schroeder. I want to learn everything I can about her because she had the hardest job on this movie. She was in charge of collecting all of the television footage. I think that’s a third of what makes the movie what it is. I may be even short changing her contribution. That’s the one thing about movie-making that I’ve really come to understand: There’s so many people that you don’t know who they are, but they made something great. I will never forget this moment when we were shooting Black Snake Moan, and I said, “Hey, let’s do one of those Jaws vertigo shots. Do y’all know what I’m talking about?” And the crew starts giggling and they start pointing at the dolly operator. “Well, Craig, why don’t you talk to him about this? Because he’s the one who did it.”

Never Seen It: Watching Being There with Craig Brewer (7)

So there’s all these people that are responsible for a Steven Spielberg movie, a Hal Ashby movie. You know, not that I’m anywhere near that, but a Craig Brewer movie is all these other people contributing something. I’ve had to ask, what do you want on the television? I remember on Dolemite Is My Name, sitting down with the woman who’s in charge of television research. I said, “Well, I know that in the movie Rudy Ray Moore is filming, he’s going to be shooting at the feet of somebody like ‘Dance, motherfucker, dance!’ It’s an iconic Dolemite moment. I feel like I’ve seen that somewhere before, and it’d be great if it was on the TV in the background, while Rudy Ray Moore is on the phone. Can you get me something like that?” And this woman — I’ve forgotten her name, much like Dianne Schroeder—this woman went through everything she could find in television and movie history of where someone’s shooting at someone’s feet in the same “Dance motherfucker!” way. The closest we got was apparently a Bugs Bunny short that we could not procure the rights to. But she did find this old, black-and-white Western where a guy was shooting at somebody’s feet. And it is on in the background in that scene. But I mean, we’re talking weeks of her scouring, trying to find that one moment. And then the rest of it is me getting a big ole reel of stuff and saying, “Do you want this commercial?”

Never Seen It: Watching Being There with Craig Brewer (5)

But in Being There, sometimes what is happening on television — he likes to watch television — is actually enhancing the scene that we are seeing in the movie. Like if that wonderful scene with Big Bird singing wasn’t that song, then I don’t know if that scene would be as good. So I’m very curious about which came first, the chicken or the egg? Was the director saying, “You know what be good is if we had this Gatorade commercial be the button on this.” Or, “Wouldn’t it be great if we could get ‘Basketball Jones?’”

McCoy: If I could come up with something as good as “Basketball Jones” in my life, I could die happy and fulfilled. That was amazing.

Never Seen It: Watching Being There with Craig Brewer


Brewer:
Well, there’s a whole movie to talk about, but I think that’s the thing that I’m left with the most — my fascination with Diane Schroeder. Whoever this woman is, she’s responsible for me loving this movie. It would not be good without her. Here’s this guy, Chance. It’s just him coming in and leaving, and no one knows who he is. And everyone he comes in contact with is either challenged or made better. You could look at so many movies, like Forrest Gump.

McCoy: It’s a “Man from Mars” story. In science fiction, you drop the man from Mars into human society. And then everybody has to explain, like, why there’s insurance. You know what I mean? It’s a way to force everybody to look at everyday society, or just their everyday lives, differently. It’s Stranger in a Strange Land without the, you know, space polygamy.

Brewer: Or to just think how odd an elevator is.

McCoy: You get to see The Beginner’s Mind. I think that’s what’s so fascinating. He’s kind of a mirror to everybody.

Never Seen It: Watching Being There with Craig Brewer (6)

Brewer: I don’t know if I would have been as brave as to direct Peter Sellers — if perhaps one can — to be as restrained as he was.

McCoy: That was one of my thoughts too — the sheer genius of just dialing Peter Sellers all the way down.

Brewer: So much so that when you get to the second old man dying, you actually get a true emotional reaction from him that you did not have in the first one, even though it’s just red around his eyes. With the tears going down his face, you feel that there has perhaps been movement in his soul. But you didn’t think there could be any movement for him, because he played everything pretty much … Usually, when you say someone played something in one note, it’s kind of a bad thing. But that’s what I thought was rather refreshing. You’re almost waiting for that one moment for him to break out of it. And perhaps he can find some epiphany on his own. But in every single scene, he does not do that. It’s not written that way. He doesn’t play it that way. I feel like the only scene that I see that, the only moment I see it in is when that guy passes in front of him. And he says, “Yes, this happens to people. I’ve seen this before.” I think he was truly moved in that moment.

McCoy: Chance has got to be on the autistic spectrum somewhere.

Brewer: I would imagine so. But what’s great about having not known anything about the movie is that you think to yourself, is there some issue he’s dealing with? Or is he truly a person who has been raised inside that house? The way we feel in the beginning of that movie, where you do not know that you were in that neighborhood, you might be in some gorgeous, New York estate with a nice little garden. Then you walk outside and you realize, “Oh, wait a minute. I had a completely different idea of where I was.”

McCoy: You don’t know you’re in D.C., right? But it’s kind of believable in that, it’s an old house. The owner has been there forever. And it’s the 1970s, so the neighborhood’s falling apart around him. So the very first thing Chance is confronted with when he leaves the house is poverty and racism. Once again, it’s the Man from Mars thing. You drop a man from Mars in the middle of an American city, and the first thing they would ask is, “How come this guy didn’t have anything? And why is this Black guy being treated so bad?”

Brewer: There is startling commentary, both spray painted on the wall and what the date [1976, the American bicentennial] is saying.

Never Seen It: Watching Being There with Craig Brewer (2)

McCoy: Then there’s that moment where the maid sees him on TV, and she just lays it down: They only listen to him because he’s a white man.

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Brewer:
I think when you’re watching a movie, there’s this natural feeling to want to figure it out. So it’s like, well, obviously he’s the son of the old man, and the old man kept him from civilization, or something like that. Perhaps he’s not dealing with some social awkwardness or a mental issue. He’s just truly a naive person that has been raised in a place where he’s never been in a car. These are his true feelings and thoughts. But then you get to him walking on water at the end. You’re in a different place of like, “Wait a minute, did this already happen with him? I just saw the death of this old man. Was he someone that came into that life of where he was at the beginning of the movie and was there a whole other movie comparable to what we just saw? Is he existing in a plane that truly, he doesn’t have a beginning or end? Or he doesn’t abide by the laws of gravity or art or science? Really?”

McCoy: Is he like the cat in the old folks home in Doctor Sleep that goes in and hangs out with you while you die?

The final shot of Being There.

McCoy: Peter Sellers, is, like you said, completely restrained and so subtle through the whole thing. It just shows you what control he had. I think a lot of people associated him with the Pink Panther stuff where he’s so wacky. But that’s control, too. It looks goofy to people, and you don’t think about it on that level, how much control it takes.

Brewer: I was young and watching Dr. Strangelove. I did not know much about Peter Sellers other than I grew up watching all of the Pink Panthers. They were a big deal between me and my dad when I was young. We’d love watching him fight Cato … So I finished watching Dr. Strangelove. I’m in high school, and I’m walking out to my car with my friends, and I go “I don’t quite understand why they gave Peter Sellers top billing on this thing. He was kind of funny as that British guy and everything, but I mean, George C. Scott!” And they’re like, “Craig, he was Dr. Strangelove and he’s the president, too.”

Sellers and MacLaine

Brewer: Shirley MacLaine. She’s a national treasure. She’s so good in this. I think that being funny and sexy at the same time, just to watch it in motion, is one of the best things ever. To see her rolling around on that bear rug, and she’s laughing and she’s discovering she’s sexy, but you’re not like lusting after her. You’re just watching. And it’s alive, and it’s real, and entertaining at the same time.

McCoy: And it’s not shot all male gaze-y like porn, either. It’s zoomed out, and there’s comedy. Half of the frame is Sellers doing comedy, and half the frame is her doing her thing. I love that scene because there’s such contrast. Like you said, the sexy and funny thing, like Goldie Hawn or Madeline Khan. And it shows you that everybody’s talking to themselves when they talk to him.

Brewer: The walking on water, can we get back to that?

McCoy: I’ve never really known what to make of it. I accept it as just beautiful, you know? Maybe it doesn’t have to be anything but that.

Brewer: I know, it’s magical realism, which is just a bullshit term for, I don’t know what he’s trying to do. I’m not meaning to grab at some certainty. I’m just saying, the authors made a choice to do that. Why did they do that? And the more I think about it, the more it calls into question what I was feeling and thinking about everything that went on. I love it. I’m glad it’s in there. I don’t think that something like that could happen today in a studio situation. “Uh, we had a pretty well-testing movie, and then you guys did that at the end, and there’s a lot of questions about it.” Would you say though that walking on water, other than it being kind of like the, “Oh, he thinks he’s so awesome. He walks on water or something like that.” Don’t you think that is specifically both narratively and spiritually related to Jesus?

McCoy: It’s gratuitous Christ imagery.

Brewer: I’m just thinking, okay, walking on water, where does that come from?

McCoy: How many people does he save, spiritually? He saves the president, and Shirley MacLaine, and the doctor …

Brewer: I go even further back. I’m going to the maid saying, “I raised that baby.” So it’s not like he’s been that age forever. He was a baby. We don’t know anything about his parentage. There’s nothing about him. He shows up as a baby in this world and causes all this spiritual introspection from people around him, by just basically saying things that almost sound like an error. And you have a bunch of disciples saying, “Jesus, give the answer to our political situation. What do we do? What are we doing?” He goes, “Well, there’s some seed …”

Never Seen It: Watching Being There with Craig Brewer (4)

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Cover Feature News

COVID Blues: Al Kapone is Back With a New Album and a New Name

Al Kapone wrote “COVID Blues” and “Hustle Up” shortly after the quarantine began a few months ago. But as time progressed, Kapone, 48, wasn’t sure the songs would fit his new album, Hip Hop Blues, which he will release June 24th.

“I wrote those while we were really in the thick of it,” Kapone says. “I’d say mid-May. I wrote them based on what was going on from the time it hit to that point. A lot has evolved since then. In a way, those songs are dated. They’re not as current as where we are now.”

Photographs courtesy of Al Kapone

Both songs — which didn’t make the cut but are slated to be used in upcoming films — are “basically talking about when it literally started taking off. About how one moment we were hearing about it overseas and the next moment, ‘Holy shit! It’s coming to us. It’s here.’ And it happened so fast nobody was really ready.”

The message in both songs is, “Through it all, we gotta hustle our way back into society. Fight the pandemic. Get finances together. We’re going through all this. We got to fight back.”

But, he says, “After I wrote those two songs I started revisiting some of the blues hip-hop songs I’d already done.”

“Blues hip-hop” is a song with “super heavy blues guitar rhythms.” But it can be diverse. It could be “blues hip-hop” or “rock hip-hop,” he says. “I like all styles of music. I tend to create different styles of music through hip-hop.” 

Among the songs on the new album are “Drunk as a Skunk” — about “getting drunk as hell” — that he wrote with Cody Dickinson of the North Mississippi All-Stars.

 “Rock Me Baby” is a remake of the Melissa Etheridge song. “She had given me the blessing to use it. And with Uriah Mitchell, we reworked it and made sure it had that hip-hop feel.”

“Dead and Gone,” a collaboration with Eric Gales, is “basically saying you need to right your wrongs before you’re dead and gone.” 

Photographs courtesy of Al Kapone

Al Kapone, Craig Brewer circa $5 Cover

During his long career, Kapone has written more than 1,000 songs, including, “Whoop That Trick,” which was in the Oscar-winning soundtrack of the 2005 made-in-Memphis movie, Hustle & Flow, directed by Craig Brewer.

He’s using “AK Bailey” as his name on the album. “With the blues project, I’m trying to carve out a different brand.” Kapone, whose real name is “Al Bailey,” is going back to his roots, in a way.

Music was his first creative expression, says Kapone, who was born in Memphis. “My grandmama and mama said it came in when I was a kid, before I even remember. When I was 2 years old, I’d say I was doing James Brown moves and singing songs like ‘Shoeshine Boy’ by Eddie Kendricks.”

Kapone moved with his mom to Bakersfield, California, when he was in the third grade. That’s where he began writing — but it wasn’t songs: “The elementary school I went to encouraged us to write a story. They said, ‘You can write whatever story you want to write.’ I remember writing this story. Something about being in the ocean. Something about a fish. It was something crazy, but I got really into the story and it hit me then that I was into characters.”

About a year and a half later,  Kapone moved back to Memphis, where he joined the newspaper staff at Lauderdale Elementary. “I was into the school newspaper. And I started learning more about the craft of writing. I was a little reporter and didn’t realize it. I was into story writing, just telling the story. Just a cool story people can read and get caught up in.”

Kapone later translated the basics of writing a news story to performing. “When I’m on stage, it’s a story. ‘Cause you got the beginning — it has to grab you. Then you got to take the audience into the journey in the middle. And it has to end with the right ending.”

He began performing in funk groups when he was in the fourth grade. “We used to have these little dance groups. You’d be out in your front yard. Once you get the routine down, you’d perform it in the neighborhood. People were so happy to see these little kids doing these dance routines.”

Later, Kapone was impressed with some provocative dance groups. “They were always men. They’d do all the provocative moves and the women would scream. I’d watch them: ‘Man, I want to do that.’ But I didn’t know how to dance.

“By the time I got into hip-hop, it wasn’t just being a rapper or getting on stage with a mic and rapping, walking back and forth and rapping, you’ve got to put on a performance. That’s always been part of my makeup.”

Kapone was introduced to hip-hop through the music of LL Cool J and Run-D.M.C. “I knew hip-hop was the right thing for me ’cause I couldn’t sing. I always wanted to perform, but I can’t sing. So hip-hop was like, ‘Oh, shit. I can do this. I can be an artist because it’s not about singing. It’s about telling cool stories and the rhymes. I could tell cool stories and I could perform them. I could do this in rhythm and rhyme.'”

And, he says, “I fell in love with the culture. The breakdancing. The deejaying. Graffiti. The way hip-hop people dress. I was into all of that. I was engulfed in the hip-hop culture. If it wasn’t for hip-hop, I’d probably never have been a performer.”

He joined the Peewee Emcees when he was in the sixth grade. “We all delivered groceries at Lauderdale Sundry. That was the first time I officially became a rapper.”

In junior high, Kapone joined a rap group called Jam Inc. Leno Reyes, a former drummer for Rick James who had moved from New York to Memphis and started a funk group, “kind of took us under his wings.”

Reyes gave them a valuable piece of advice: “You go on stage, you are controlling the crowd.”

“He said it in a way where I really felt it. It was like he translated power to me when he said it. ‘When you go on the stage, you are the master.’ And it felt so powerful that whenever I went on stage from that point I knew I’m in control. I’m the master.

 “I don’t need the audience to give me the energy. I give them the energy. I’m going to take the audience on a journey with me. And my goal is to outperform anybody that’s going to perform that day.

“I built up my name. I’d go up on stage and perform almost like a rock star. And that resonated with the audience.”

He was “one of the first rappers to perform in rock venues” at the age of 16. “Even though I was hip-hop, I had that rock star mentality.”

Kapone joined a group called Men of the Hour, which performed with “other up-and-coming rappers,” including DJ Spanish Fly and 8Ball & MJG, at the 21st Century Youth Club.

They recorded at OTS Records in Orange Mound. “That’s where Gangsta Pat had blown up. Me and 8Ball would record songs trying to outdo each other. We were developing the Memphis rap sound at that time. That was the genesis of it.”

Photographs courtesy of Al Kapone

“Lyrical Drive By” days

Kapone became a solo artist after Men of the Hour broke up. “That’s where I literally became Al Kapone, and everybody knew who I was ’cause I had this song, ‘Lyrical Drive By,’ which blew up in Memphis and regionally. I was doing shows in Memphis, Mississippi, Arkansas, and experiencing the real fans.”

But, he says, “To this day, I never really wanted to be a solo artist.”

That’s when he said, “I need a cool solo rap name.”

He was watching the 1932 movie, Scarface, based on mobster Al Capone. “I said, ‘That’s my name.’ It just grabbed my attention. That name is the shit. My name is Al anyway.”

Kapone went by Scarface Al until he discovered the Ghetto Boys had a group member named Scarface. 

So, he became Al Kapone, but he says, “Of course, Al Capone is associated with gangsters, the whole gangster world. At some point I’m still just a songwriter, a guy from the projects and the hood.”

Kapone says now that he didn’t want to be pigeonholed into just writing gangsta songs. “I wanted to write different types of songs. Not just stuff that goes on in the streets, in the hood. I’m a writer. I can write about anything.

“I used to piss audiences off. My songs had nothing to do with being a gangsta on the street. It was human life struggles. Black struggle shit.

“People were like, ‘I want to hear “Drive By,” dammit, and you’re talking about struggling as a black man. What the fuck. I want to hear some shooting and stuff. You’re talking about trying to better yourself.’ That name got in the way.”

But, he says, “I could never come up with anything. I was already known at this point.”

Kapone had been an independent performer for 14 years and says he had become “stagnant” when Hustle & Flow came along. “When Craig gave me the opportunity to do my music, and once they accepted me and the movie came out and blew up and everybody talked about the music in the movie, it gave me a whole other level of attention.”

Hustle & Flow put Kapone “in a situation to write more songs for other artists. Writing songs for different movies. And labels were calling me for a lot of songwriting and stuff like that, but at some point it became like an assembly line. It’s not fun anymore. It becomes robotic. And I was like, ‘This is not how you write songs.’ You write songs from a feeling of creativity. Not someone throwing you something and saying, ‘Write. Write. Write.’ I kind of shied away from the music business for a while ’cause I wasn’t feeling like that.”

Photographs courtesy of Al Kapone

Eric Gales (left) collaborated with Al Kapone on “Dead and Gone.”

But, he says, “When I stopped being a part of the music business, I started listening to music as a fan again. The same way I did when I was in elementary school when I became a fan.”

Kapone knew he wasn’t going to quit show business. That “reassured me to not leave it. ‘Cause I felt the good feeling I felt from being creative again.

“I’m blessed with a level of creativity and blessed with being able to express it. And blessed to put it out when it feels good to me. Not because I have to.” 

During the quarantine, Kapone discovered that a video made by Running Pony using his rendition of “Eye of the Tiger” had won the No. 1 intro in the country by National Association of Collegiate Directors of Marketing (NACMA). He recorded it with the University of Memphis’ Mighty Sounds of the South band at Royal Studios. “Uriah Mitchell did vocals with me, and we made it happen.”

Photographs courtesy of Al Kapone

Al Kapone (left) and Isaac Hayes

The win was “a ray of light in a way,” he says. “It gave everybody a sense of pride when they heard about that news.  I feel that pride was much-needed, especially in Memphis, going through what we’re going through. It lifted a lot of people’s spirits. Memphis — we’re still out here making noise in spite of everything. Know what I’m saying? We’re David beating Goliath still.”

Royal Studios owner Lawrence “Boo” Mitchell says Kapone “always manages to stay current throughout his creative process.”

He stays relevant, “pushing himself as an artist and doing something cutting-edge that nobody else has done before.”

Stax co-owner/record producer and songwriter Al Bell says Kapone is “very aware of the shoulders on which he stands: the veteran Memphis musicians from Stax Records, Hi Records, and others who helped create ‘The Memphis Sound.’ Those musical roots are very important to him, and I think that’s one of the factors that make his style so entertaining.”

And, Bell says, Kapone “has proven that he can move from the underground status younger audiences tend to follow, to more mainstream works that often tend to celebrate Memphis in various ways. He was born in Memphis, lives in Memphis, and loves Memphis. Al is Memphis.”

To hear Hip Hop Blues, go to akmemphis.com.

Categories
Film Features Film/TV

From Netflix to Criterion: All You Need to Know About What’s Streaming

Those of us who are not doctors, nurses, or EMTs or others on the front lines of the fight against COVID-19 are faced with some time on our hands. The only silver lining to the situation is that our new reality of soft quarantine comes just as streaming video services are proliferating. There are many choices, but which ones are right for you? Here’s a rundown on the major streaming services and a recommendation of something good to watch on each channel.

Stevie Wonder plays “Superstition” on Sesame Street.

YouTube

The granddaddy of them all. There was crude streaming video on the web before 2005, but YouTube was the first company to perfect the technology and capture the popular imagination. More than 500 hours of new video are uploaded to YouTube every minute.

Cost: Free with ads. YouTube Premium costs $11.99/month for ad-free viewing and the YouTube Music app.

What to Watch: The variety of content available on YouTube is unfathomable. Basically, if you can film it, it’s on there somewhere. If I have to recommend one video out of the billions available, it’s a 6:47 clip of Stevie Wonder playing “Superstition” on Sesame Street. In 1973, a 22-year-old Wonder took time to drop in on the PBS kids’ show. He and his band of road-hard Motown gunslingers delivered one of the most intense live music performances ever captured on film to an audience of slack-jawed kids. It’s possibly the most life-affirming thing on the internet.

From Netflix to Criterion: All You Need to Know About What’s Streaming

Dolemite Is My Name

Netflix

When the DVD-by-mail service started pivoting to streaming video in 2012, it set the template for the revolution that followed. Once, Netflix had almost everything, but recently they have concentrated on spending billions creating original programming that ranges from the excellent, like Roma, to the not-so excellent.

Cost: Prices range from $8.99/month for SD video on one screen, to $15.99/month, which gets you 4K video on up to four screens simultaneously.

What to Watch: Memphian Craig Brewer’s 2019 film Dolemite Is My Name is the perfect example of what Netflix is doing right. Eddie Murphy stars as Rudy Ray Moore, the chitlin’ circuit comedian who reinvented himself as the kung-fu kicking, super pimp Dolemite and became an independent film legend. From the screenplay by Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski to Wesley Snipes as a drunken director, everyone is at the top of their game.

Future Man

Hulu

Founded as a joint venture by a mixture of old-guard media businesses and dot coms to compete with Netflix, Hulu is now controlled by Disney, thanks to their 2019 purchase of Fox. It features a mix of movies and shows that don’t quite fit under the family-friendly Disney banner. The streamer’s secret weapon is Hulu with Live TV.

Cost: $5.99/month for shows with commercials, $11.99 for no commercials; Hulu with Live TV, $54.99/month.

What to Watch: Hulu doesn’t make as many originals as Netflix, but they knocked it out of the park with Future Man. Josh Futturman (Josh Hutcherson) is a nerd who works as a janitor at a biotech company by day and spends his nights mastering a video game called Biotic Wars. A pair of time travelers appear and tell him his video game skills reveal him as the chosen one who will save humanity from a coming catastrophe. The third and final season of Future Man premieres April 3rd.

Logan Lucky


Amazon Prime Video

You may already subscribe to Amazon Prime Video. The streaming service is an add-on to Amazon Prime membership and features the largest selection of legacy content on the web, plus films and shows produced by Amazon Studios.

Cost: Included with the $99/year Amazon Prime membership.

What to Watch: You can always find something in Amazon’s huge selection, but if you missed Steven Soderbergh’s redneck heist comedy Logan Lucky when it premiered in 2017, now’s the perfect time to catch up. Channing Tatum and Adam Driver star as the Logan brothers, who plot to rob the Charlotte Motor Speedway.

Inside Out

Disney+

The newcomer to the streaming wars is also the elephant in the room. Disney flexes its economic hegemony by undercutting the other streaming services in cost while delivering the most popular films of the last decade. Marvel, Pixar, and Star Wars flicks are all here, along with the enormous Disney vault dating back to 1940. So if you want to watch The Avengers, you gotta pay the mouse.

Cost: $6.99/month or $69.99/year.

What to Watch: These are difficult times to be a kid, and no film has a better grasp of children’s psychology than Pixar’s Inside Out. Riley (Kaitlyn Dias) is an 11-year-old Minnesotan whose parents’ move to San Francisco doesn’t quite go as planned.

Cleo from 5 to 7

The Criterion Channel

Since 1984, The Criterion Collection has been keeping classics, art films, and the best of experimental video in circulation through the finest home video releases in the industry. They pioneered both commentary tracks and letterboxing, which allows films to be shown in their original widescreen aspect ratio. Their streaming service features a rotating selection of Criterion films, with the best curated recommendations around. You’ll find everything from Carl Theodor Dreyer’s 1928 silent epic The Passion of Joan of Arc to Ray Harryhausen’s seminal special effects extravaganza Jason and the Argonauts.

Cost: $99.99/year or $10.99/month.

What to Watch: One of the legendary directors whose body of work makes the Criterion Channel worth it is Agnès Varda. In the Godmother of French New Wave’s 1962 film, Cleo from 5 to 7, Corinne Marchand stars as a singer whose glamorous life in swinging Paris is interrupted by an ominous visit to the doctor. As she waits the fateful two hours to get the results of a cancer test, she reflects on her existence and the perils of being a woman in a man’s world.

Categories
Music Record Reviews

In Dolemite Is My Name Score, Scott Bomar Puts His Weight On It

“You’ve been blessed by Moses.” Those were the words uttered by none other than Isaac Hayes when he visited tracking sessions for the soundtrack to Hustle and Flow.  While that Craig Brewer film led to Three 6 Mafia winning an Oscar in 2006, much of the picture’s music marked the breakout of local producer, composer, and bassist Scott Bomar, and it was during his sessions that Moses descended.

Now, with Bomar’s soundtrack to Brewer’s latest, Dolemite Is My Name, that blessing has come to fruition. As Bomar recently told Variety, “I would say any Memphis influence that’s in the music is through the influence of the film scores that Isaac Hayes did. Isaac…was a very big influence and mentor to Craig and I both. I feel like that blessing has continued into this project, because he would have really loved this. We use three of the musicians on the score who were in his group who played on the scores to Shaft, Tough Guys and Truck Turner: Willie Hall (on drums), Lester Snell (on keys) and Michael Toles (on guitar).”
Courtesy Memphis Music Hall of Fame

Scott Bomar & Don Bryant

Bomar has always had impeccable instincts in choosing his players, as with the globe-trotting Bo-Keys, who purvey classic soul with front men like Percy Wiggins and Don Bryant. Some of those players overlap in this project, though there are some other cameos as well: actor Craig Robinson, regional blues lifer Bobby Rush, Beale Street royalty Blind Mississippi Morris, and trombonist Fred Wesley, who played with James Brown for many years, also make appearances.

Needless to say, this is one funky, soulful soundtrack, a veritable encyclopedia of 70s motifs and riffs. Wah-wah guitar, clavinet, organ, and punchy horns abound, all grounded by the rock-solid rhythms of Bomar and drummer Willie Hall. Having said that, many imaginative flourishes abound. “Pur Your Weight On It,” for example, employs some period-authentic synthesizer and unorthodox, high register bass notes to disarming effect. The campy “Ballad of a Boy and Girl,” sung by Eddie Murphy and Da’Vine Joy Randolph, makes for perhaps the most powerful use of kazoo in any major motion picture soundtrack.  And, as with so many classic Isaac Hayes tracks, the heavy funk is decorated with some gorgeous orchestral embellishments.

Beyond Isaac Hayes, amidst all the pitch-perfect funkisms, there are some unexpected influences on this music. As Brewer told Variety, “I told Scott Bomar that I wanted him to treat the score for Dolemite Is My Name as if it were a little bit of like a superhero movie. I wanted there to be a “Rudy theme,” just like there would be a Luke Skywalker or Captain America theme.”

Scott Bomar

Bomar adds, “The theme to Superman was definitely a reference for this film. With the melody that we call the Rudy theme, the first time we hear it is in the beginning of the film where he’s creating the character and experimenting with the comedy routine; by the end of it, with the music building, he’s pulling a wig out of a box in the closet, and when the wig is revealed, that’s where we first hear this theme. It’s used a few times throughout the film, and then the last time we hear it is at the end when they’re going to the premiere; when Rudy steps out of the limo, that’s where the Rudy theme is fully developed. And, definitely, the reference there was the theme from Superman.”

Aside from the two tracks sung by Robinson, the track by Bobby Rush perfectly captures the gritty roadhouse blues vibe, fired by his uncanny delivery, and Blind Mississippi Morris, accompanied by Jason Freeman, brings things down to earth as the album’s closer. All in all, it’s a grand survey of the sounds that make this place burn with musical passions, expertly curated and assembled by one of the city’s greatest contemporary producers.

Hear Scott Bomar speak with author Robert Gordon about this and other music he’s created, tonight at the Memphis Music Listening Party, Thursday, January 30, 7 pm, at the Benjamin L. Hooks Central Library. Free.

Categories
News News Blog

Society of Entrepreneurs Adding Four Members for 2020

The Society of Entrepreneurs will induct four new members into the organization next year. They are: film producer/director Craig Brewer; Edith Kelly-Green, partner in The KGR Group; Chris Woods, founder and president of Chris Woods Construction Co., and Kent Wunderlich, CEO and board chairman of Financial Federal Bank.

SOE was founded in 1991 to foster entrepreneurial spirit and recognize contributions of area entrepreneurs. Membership is of Mid-South business owners, presidents and other key executives. New members are mature entrepreneurs chosen annually by their peers. The 28th Annual Dinner and Awards Banquet will be Saturday, April 18, 2020 at the Holiday Inn at the University of Memphis.

Craig Brewer

Craig Brewer

Brewer is a lifelong resident of the area where he developed the storytelling skills that would take him to Hollywood. His first feature film was The Poor & Hungry, filmed guerrilla-style around town. It won the Best Digital Feature at the 2000 Hollywood Film Festival and was acquired by the Independent Film Channel soon afterwards. That put Brewer on the radar in Hollywood and allowed him to make his second feature, Hustle & Flow, starring Terrence Howard and Taraji P. Henson. It got an Academy Award nomination for Howard and won the Academy Award for Best Original Song, Three 6 Mafia’s It’s Hard Out Here for a Pimp. Following that was Black Snake Moan with Samuel L. Jackson, Christina Ricci and Justin Timberlake.

The director has since done several other features and documentaries and helmed television shows, including several episodes of Empire. Most recently he released the acclaimed Dolemite is My Name with Eddie Murphy, and he’s now working on Coming 2 America with Murphy, Arsenio Hall, and James Earl Jones.

Edith Kelly-Green

Edith Kelly-Green

Before Kelly-Green founded The KGR Group, she worked for almost 30 years at FedEx Express, gaining considerable recognition. She was vice president and chief sourcing officer, and also served as vice president-internal audit of FedEx Corporation reporting directly to chairman and founder Frederick W. Smith. She was the first black woman to receive officer status. During her tenure, she received three Five Star Awards, the highest performance award at FedEx.

After retiring from Fedex, Kelly-Green started The KGR Group in 2005 with her son, James Kelly and daughter, Jayna Kelly. KGR’s primary investments are Lenny’s Grill & Subs franchises and Wimpy’s Burger and Fries restaurants in the Mid-South. The KGR Group expanded from one location in 2005 to 13 Lenny’s stores in Memphis, Nashville, and northern Mississippi. The KGR Group has the largest number of Lenny’s locations in the approximately 90-unit system. Organically and through acquisitions, revenues have increased over tenfold annually. Additionally, Lenny’s has provided first jobs or launch pads for hundreds of Memphians who have gone on to college or trade schools.

Kelly-Green is on the boards of Sanderson Farms, BULAB Holdings, Inc., Methodist LeBonheur Health Systems, and Hattiloo Theatre. She is also a founding member of the Memphis Symphony Orchestra’s Circle of Friends, a founding board member and treasurer of the Women’s Foundation of Memphis, a founding member of the Philanthropic Black Women of Memphis, and a founding board chairman of the Ole Miss Women’s Council for Philanthropy.

Chris Woods

Chris Woods

Woods started his enterprise in 1985 to become a full-service commercial general contractor and construction management firm, providing consulting, design-build, pre-construction and other services. In the past year, the company has added six employees (up from 30) and converted 1,000 square feet of warehouse space into four employee offices. Though the company has been seeking to broaden its client base, Woods says the biggest accomplishment of the past year was seeing $40 million of the company’s volume come from repeat clients. In 32 years, CWC has grown to annual revenues of $70 million.

Woods says he emphasizes a “positive and friendly working environment combined with an incredible team camaraderie. In addition to our dedication to having satisfied clients, we are committed to our employees and providing the very best working conditions possible.”

Every December, CWC contributes to local churches for their Christmas programs for the disadvantaged. In 2017, the Chris Woods Scholarship Fund was established at St. Francis of Assisi Catholic School in memory of Woods’ grandson. The company is a sponsor of Meritan’s Bike Tour and has assisted the University of Memphis in establishing a fund for a new construction management program.

Kent Wunderlich

Kent Wunderlich

In 1987, Wunderlich joined what is now Financial Federal Bank. He is now chairman of the board, CEO and general counsel for the company. Prior to that, he was a member of Baker Donelson and became a partner in the commercial real estate section of the law firm.

Financial Federal has been consistently profitable with current assets of $650 million. It is one of the few Memphis banks that did not take TARP money from the government during the financial crisis of 2008. Starting with only $2 million in paid-in-capital, the bank now has a book equity of approximately $80 million. It has one of the highest return-on-assets in the industry and emphasizes customer service and customized banking solutions.

Wunderlich has been a board member of the Shelby Farms Park Conservancy since 2012. He served on the Memphis University School Board of Trustees for more than 20 years, including nine years as Chairman. He has been on boards of charitable organizations in the greater Memphis community including the Boys and Girls Club of Memphis, Neighborhood Housing Opportunities Inc., and the Nature Conservancy of Tennessee.

Categories
Cover Feature News

Dolemite Is My Name: Craig Brewer and Eddie Murphy Pay Tribute to a Blacksploitation Hero

It’s July 2018, and the Orpheum Theatre in Downtown Los Angeles is teeming with activity. The old movie palace’s basement is packed with background actors getting dressed and made up in ’70s finery — bell bottoms, afros, and clashing patterns — to appear in Dolemite Is My Name.

On one side of the cavernous lobby is “video village,” where technicians, producers, and crew huddle around monitors, adjust controls, and clutch headphones to their ears, watching the action onscreen. On the other side of the lobby, director Craig Brewer and cinematographer Eric Steelberg are setting up a tracking shot with a pair of stand-ins. Once they’re satisfied that the complex choreography of camera, lighting, and extras is right, a call goes out from the assistant director. “Clear the set.”

Eddie Murphy as Rudy Ray Moore

Eddie Murphy is ready for his close-up.

You Can’t Remake Dolemite

A year later, Brewer is on the phone in Brooklyn, where, the day before, he shot scenes for Coming 2 America with James Earl Jones. Dolemite Is My Name has just had a triumphant premiere at the prestigious Toronto International Film Festival, with the first audiences raving about Murphy’s performance. I ask Brewer how he came to helm the film for Netflix.

“I had heard that there were rumblings that they were trying to remake Dolemite. As much as my mind always tries to go to a place of, ‘How can Dolemite be remade?’ There’s the basic story of a man who’s in prison, who, for whatever reason, is let out, now into a different world, where everything he had is now under the control of somebody else … then I thought, ‘Craig. Stop. Footloose, maybe. Some other movies, maybe. But Dolemite is special because it’s funny.’ You can’t just do an action drama out of Dolemite. It’s beautiful because of its production flaws, and that’s why — especially among independent filmmakers — we love it so much. Of all the blaxploitation movies, it’s perhaps the most incredulous and head-scratching. I can’t even think about doing a Dolemite remake.

“Then my agent called me a year later and said, ‘We have the script called Dolemite Is My Name, and I think you should read it.’ I don’t think I’m the guy for it because I just don’t think that it can be redone. He said, ‘Wait a minute. This is a script from Larry Karaszewski and Scott Alexander. It’s about Rudy Ray Moore making Dolemite, and Eddie Murphy’s going to play him.’ And I said YES! He said, ‘Well I think you should read the script first, and I think you should talk to the producers …’ And I was like, ‘Of course, but if you’re looking for my response, I’m in.'”

Craig Brewer, Scott Alexander, and Larry Karaszewski at the Los Angeles premiere of Dolemite Is My Name

Everything
Falls Apart

Rudy Ray Moore grew up the son of a sharecropper in Fort Smith, Arkansas. As soon as he was old enough, he moved to Los Angeles to try to make it in show business. He tried first as a singer, then as a comedian, then a combination of both, before he created the character of Dolemite, a big-talking street pimp whose rhyming braggadocio translated into a series of hit “party records” — comedy routines often backed by slinky soul music, packed with dirty words, street wisdom, and transgressive situations. After a series of unlikely, underground hits (which included a Dolemite Christmas album), he leveraged his fame in the African-American community into making an independent movie based on the character. At the time, the term for films aimed at the inner city markets was “blaxploitation.”

“What makes Dolemite so special is that it’s one of a kind,” says Karaszewski. “A lot of the blaxploitation movies are trying to be sort of generic action pictures with African-American leads. That made them special and cool because you hadn’t seen African Americans in those roles before, where they were tough cops. But Rudy’s movie goes to another level on top of that. He’s making fun of the genre, while also trying to be the genre at the same time. He’s a comedian. They were meant to be laughed at. But they were also meant to be, ‘Look at that! It’s a cool car chase!'”

Karaszewski and his writing partner Alexander met in film school and have been working together for more than two decades. They often finish each other’s thoughts. “Shaft, Superfly, Black Caesar are kind of urban action films,” Alexander says. “They’re taking their leading men seriously. They’re cool, they’re good-looking, they’ve got good-looking chicks, the gun, and the suit. Rudy is a doughy comic who is not an actor, and he cannot do kung fu. But he was making the movie he wanted to see. He wanted to have kung fu and ladies and car chases. …”

“… and he made it through sheer force of personality,” says Karaszewski. “It comes out on the screen.”

Alexander and Karaszewski wrote the 1994 classic, Ed Wood. Directed by Tim Burton and starring Johnny Depp as the real-life “worst director ever,” the film earned an Academy Award for Martin Landau’s portrayal of the original Dracula, Bela Lugosi. “When we meet big-time, successful directors, a lot of times they’ll pull us aside and say, ‘I feel just like Ed Wood.’ That’s the whole point of the Orson Welles scene toward the end of the movie. It doesn’t matter if you’re the best filmmaker of all time or the worst filmmaker of all time, you still have the same problems,” says Karaszewski.

Among the fans of Ed Wood was one Eddie Murphy. When the man who saved Saturday Night Live, the star of Beverly Hills Cop, Trading Places, and Coming to America, saw the film in the mid-1990s, he called up Alexander and Karaszewski with a proposition. A week later, the three of them were in a room with Rudy Ray Moore. “He told us what he would like to see in a movie about his life and that Eddie would be perfect for the part,” says Alexander. “We thought, ‘Oh my god, this is going to be the greatest movie of all time!’ And then it just fell to pieces. That’s what happens in Hollywood — you get excited, and nine times out of 10, nothing happens.”

(l-r) Craig Robinson, Keegan-Michael Key, Eddie Murphy, Tituss Burgess, and Mike Epps

Stuck in Turnaround

Craig Brewer knows that feeling. He’s been riding the Hollywood roller coaster since 2005, when Hustle & Flow became a breakout hit at the Sundance Film Festival. The film, which Brewer fought for years to get financed before producer John Singleton rode to the rescue, set a record when it was bought by Paramount for $9 million in a late-night, Park City, Utah, bidding war. It went on to win an Academy Award for Three 6 Mafia’s “It’s Hard Out Here for a Pimp” and earn a Best Actor nomination for its star, Terrence Howard.

For a movie made on a shoestring budget in Memphis, Hustle has had an extraordinary cultural impact, becoming a staple on cable television and inspiring Memphis Grizzlies fans to adopt “Whoop That Trick” as an unofficial fight song. The scenes of Howard, Taraji P. Henson, DJ Qualls, and Anthony Anderson creating music in a North Memphis shotgun house have been copied endlessly by filmmakers looking to create inspirational moments.

Brewer’s controversial next film, Black Snake Moan, gave Samuel L. Jackson one of the best roles of his long career and introduced the phrase “chained to the radiator” into the lexicon. Brewer gained a reputation as an excellent script doctor, and, in 2011, he was tapped by Paramount Pictures to remake their seminal 1984 dance movie Footloose. The next year, he stepped in as executive producer to save the troubled Katie Perry movie Part of Me, and it became the seventh-highest grossing documentary of all time. He was clearly Memphis’ most successful filmmaker and had an enviable career by any Hollywood standards.

After Footloose, Brewer was attached to write and direct The Legend of Tarzan for Warner Brothers. It was to be his introduction into the exclusive club of directors trusted with $100-million budgets. He wrote a screenplay that turned heads in Hollywood, but studio politics tore the production apart, and, amid spiraling budget estimates and executive turmoil, the project was shelved. When The Legend of Tarzan was eventually completed in 2016, Brewer’s script formed the backbone of the picture, but he still had to fight for his screenwriting credit.

What the public didn’t see were the dozens of projects that never got off the ground. There was Maggie Lynn, a music epic Brewer wrote about a country singer rocketing to fame; there was Mother Trucker, a script about the infamous Tennessee inmate who broke out of jail and stole Crystal Gayle’s tour bus in an effort to visit his dying mother. He pitched a Star Wars movie to Lucasfilm honcho Kathleen Kennedy and a reboot of The Creature From the Black Lagoon to Universal. Nothing gained any traction.

At the same time, his long marriage to wife Jodi Brewer was on the rocks. The pair eventually separated but did not divorce. Brewer felt like his life was falling apart. “I bought a big house,” he says. “I bought into a lot of the trappings of being a successful filmmaker. And then suddenly, some of those things began to dry up, and I got very scared. … Movies have been going through such a change, and I was beginning to get really bitter about it. Tarzan and that whole developments situation was not ideal, and I had been trying to get these other movies going with the studio system, any way I could, and it just wasn’t happening.”

It was friends from his past who brought him back. In 2015, Terrence Howard and Taraji P. Henson, whom Brewer made stars in Hustle & Flow, became the lead actors on Empire, a wildly successful Fox show created by Lee Daniels. “I would say it’s quite true that if John Singleton helped start my career,” says Brewer, “Lee Daniels helped bring me back.”

Daniels hired Brewer for the second season of Empire. “I wanted to be in a room working with a bunch of other writers. I wanted to be on set filming somebody else’s vision. I’d like to just be a director and just be a writer for a while and help the product be the best it can be and hopefully bring my best to it. It was just so fortunate that I got to do Empire. I loved the show so much, and I loved what Lee had created: his beautifully subversive, outlandish antics that I think break down walls, not just with race, with culture, with class, but just what people would think is appropriate.”

Brewer worked in the Empire writer’s room for three seasons, directing 10 episodes. Brewer says he found his joy “just writing scripts, being in a room with a bunch of creative people, and learning to listen, trying to not perform all the time.”

Dolemite has a star-studded cast — Snoop Dogg (top) plays a radio DJ; Craig Robinson (below) plays Ben Taylor in Dolemite Is My Name.

“Does Eddie Really Want to Do This?”

In 1996, Alexander and Karaszewski wrote The People vs. Larry Flynt. “We had such a good time shooting that movie in Memphis,” says Alexander. “We got to know D’Army Bailey. He was a blast. As soon as [director] Milos Forman met him, he said, ‘Let’s turn him into an actor.'”

Later, Karaszewski would become a regular at the Indie Memphis Film Festival, serving on juries and just coming back to have fun and watch movies. In 2016, Alexander and Karaszewski wrote and produced the 10-episode miniseries The People vs. O.J. Simpson for the FX anthology show American Crime Story. It became a ratings sensation and was nominated for 22 Emmy Awards, ultimately winning nine, including Outstanding Limited Series and awards for actors Sterling K. Brown, Sarah Paulson, and Courtney B. Vance.

“After we did the O.J. thing, a lot of people wanted to do projects with us,” says Karaszewski. The writing partners decided to use the opportunity to revisit some dream projects that had failed to launch, like the Rudy Ray Moore story. “We had producers John Davis and John Fox contact Eddie to see if he was still into this idea. Not only was he ready, he was eager. That’s how we got to Netflix.”

Murphy, who was semi-retired, wowed the Netflix executives at the pitch meeting. “Eddie is very open about this,” says Alexander. “He says, ‘I was just enjoying sitting on my couch, playing with my kids, and hanging out.’ He has a whole brood. Coming in to Netflix, they said, ‘Does Eddie really want to do this?’ So Eddie showed up at the Netflix meeting and summoned his superpowers. He turned into Rudy and started doing ‘Signifying Monkey.’ The Netflix people were like, ‘Holy shit! This is for real!’ Larry and I barely opened our mouths in that pitch meeting. You got Eddie in the room doing it. What more do you want?”

Karaszewski suggested they talk to Brewer for the director slot. “It was my first time meeting Craig, and I was blown away,” says Alexander. “He said, ‘It’s a movie about duality’, and no one else had actually said that out loud.”

The Man Who Was Fearless

Once word of Murphy’s commitment to the project got out, Keegan-Michael Key signed on as Jerry Jones, the playwright Moore enlists to script his dream project. Chris Rock and Snoop Dogg got cameos as DJs who helped Moore in his career. Mike Epps and Craig Robinson became members of Moore’s entourage. But the biggest get was Wesley Snipes as D’Urville Martin, the blaxploitation star who appeared in Black Caesar and whom Moore cajoled into directing Dolemite.

Brewer says he came to identify deeply with his subject. “Rudy Ray Moore made his own records. He forged his own path. I couldn’t help but feel a connection to it. There were many times that I thought, I know that because of the material that I’m drawn to and even the mentors in my life, like John Singleton and Stephanie Allain, and more recently Lee Daniels, I know that there’s a lot of material that I have that has predominantly African-American stories, and I did begin to second-guess whether or not I’m a person to tell this story. But I couldn’t help but see all of my connections to it. I couldn’t help but see a guy in Los Angeles from the South with doors slamming in his face, basically turning to a rag-tag group of friends and saying, ‘Well, what if we just did it anyway?'”

Brewer came to see the duality of the character was central to the story’s appeal. “I think it’s important for all the artists that I’ve had in my life. I get excited thinking about Rudy Ray Moore through the lens of Al Kapone and Harlan T. Bobo. I think I have a side of me that wants things to be larger than life — big music that hits right on an edit. But there is another side of me that’s at times insecure and wanting reassurance from friends and family around me.”

Without his Dolemite costume, Moore “just looks like a normal, nice guy. Then you put on that wig, that hat, that jacket, and that cane, and the idea that he could escape into this man who was fearless ultimately helps that man who has fear,” Brewer says. “There are times that the whole ‘fake it till you make it’ is a healthy program when you’re trying to begin something.

“It’s also something I see in Eddie’s work. I wouldn’t say there are two personalities, but there are definitely two sides of the same coin. It’s there in The Nutty Professor, in Coming to America, definitely in Trading Places. It’s also in Eddie’s personal manner. He’s a very real, intellectual, soft-spoken man who doesn’t feel a need to perform for everybody in the room until it’s time for him to perform. Then this iconic entertainer suddenly emerges, and you’re like, ‘Wow! Where did this come from?'”

Karaszewski says Brewer’s direction was integral to the final product. “I remember one of the first days on the set, we were filming one of the scenes from the chitlin’ circuit montage. I was standing there with Scott and said, ‘Thank god we actually got someone who knows what it looks like.’ Craig has been to these places. He knows that the signs with the booze specials have half the letters missing. He knows that there’s a smoker out in the back parking lot smoking some ribs and brisket. It has that lived-in feel. That was always our fear, that someone would take the script and make the superficial version of the story. It is very easy to make fun of the fact that Rudy is making a bad movie. What Craig did was add that realness that gave the movie a humanity.”

Alexander says the production had a joy to it that is rare in the high-pressure Hollywood world. “Being on his set was a blast. Craig created such a positive environment, it was a total joy to be on the set each day. Sometimes, actors who weren’t even working were just kind of hanging around. When we were shooting the closing shot of the movie, which is a big, elaborate crane shot, Craig had a little boom box where he would play music and sync it up. Eddie would do the take, then everyone would huddle around the monitor and Craig would say, ‘Let’s do playback!’ And he would do it with the music. It was like we were getting to watch the movie in real time! It was just so fun.”

For Brewer, who had set so many of his films in Memphis, getting to shoot in L.A. was a dream come true. “We’re in Griffith Park, up in the mountains, and doing a ’70s car chase scene, where a police car is chasing Dolemite’s car, sirens blaring, everything. I call action, and we’ve got two cameras going, and the car’s tires are squealing around the corner. I yelled ‘cut’ and just started going ‘Whoo hoo! Yes!’ I turned to the crew and said, ‘I’m sure y’all have probably filmed thousands of car chases. That was my first, and it couldn’t have been better!'”

A Dream Picture

Coming 13 years after being nominated for Best Supporting Actor in Dreamgirls, Eddie Murphy’s performance in Dolemite Is My Name is a revelation. He’s funny, of course — Murphy and his late brother Charlie were doing Dolemite routines while they were pre-teens — but he is also vulnerable, as in the opening scene when he’s trying to get a DJ, played by Snoop Dogg, to spin his lame R&B records.

The script is the spiritual successor to Ed Wood, telling the story of Moore’s transformation from a record store clerk and flailing nightclub comic to a comedy legend. Not only is Murphy good, but the deep cast of Moore’s collaborators all have fleshed-out characters to play. Snipes is perfection as the drunk director who bolts at the first hint that something better is coming along. Da’Vine Joy Randolph is a big discovery as Lady Reed, Dolemite’s partner in crime. Keegan-Michael Key gets laughs as the intellectual straight man to Moore’s outlandish street performer. Memphian Claude Phillips, who has been in every Brewer movie since Hustle & Flow, cameos as a hobo who teaches Moore the rhyming cadence that would eventually make him known as one of the godfathers of rap. Scott Bomar, Memphis musician and producer, composed the soulful score, which was recorded in Memphis.

“We were trying to make a fun, entertaining movie,” says Karaszewski. “We didn’t realize how audiences would take it as inspirational. They look at the can-do spirit of Rudy Ray Moore. If someone closes a door in his face, he will open up another door. There’s so much comedy in the movie, but the inspiration is played sincere and played honest, so audiences come away with that.”

Brewer says Murphy’s performance was the key to getting the film’s tone exactly right. “I am sure it’s possible to make a Martin Scorsese-style, darker examination of Rudy Ray Moore. I just don’t know if that’s really the spirit of Rudy Ray Moore. He was really happy. He was about entertainment and fun, but I think we have the appropriate amount of vulnerability in the movie. Eddie is not just in it for the yucks. He’s portraying a very real character and somebody who means a lot to him because he was a huge fan. It’s been a dream of his to make this movie for more than a decade.”

For Karaszewski, Craig’s background as a scrappy indie filmmaker who broke into the Hollywood system made him the perfect person to helm Dolemite Is My Name. “No one was going to hand Craig Brewer or Rudy Ray Moore a bunch of money to go make their dreams come true, so they had to do it themselves.”

Categories
Fly On The Wall Blog Opinion

Memphis Comedy Show “You Look Like” Begins Airing on LOL Network

Keven Hart’s LOL Network launches a new made-in-Memphis show Tuesday, March 20th. After almost two years spent searching for the right home, Midtown’s favorite insult comedy event, You Look Like, show will be available to comedy fans nationwide.

Memphis Comedy Show ‘You Look Like’ Begins Airing on LOL Network

For the back-story on how filmmaker/TV producer Craig Brewer hooked up with a bunch of Memphis comics to make this series, check out “You Look Like a Cover Story,” originally published in May, 2017.

Justin Fox Burkes

Katrina Coleman

 You Look Like a Cover Story
by CHRIS DAVIS

Photographs by Justin Fox Burks


So a gaggle of comedians from Memphis walk into a bar in Western Arkansas …
No, this isn’t the beginning of a joke. It’s an origin story for Memphis’ most popular monthly, game-based comedy event. You Look Like — so named because the competition’s mean-spirited jokes all begin with the words, “You look like” — recently tickled film and television director Craig Brewer’s funny bone, so now it’s being developed as a streaming digital series.

You Look Like is beginning to look like a comedy institution in the making, but back in the summer of 2015, the embryonic thing that rapidly evolved into You Look Like (YLL), just looked like local funsters Katrina Coleman and Benny Elbows swapping off-the-cuff insults to pass time over a long, boring haul to Fayetteville. Once the other comedians on the evening’s bill were introduced to the concept, they jumped right in and started playing along, too, saying terrible things to each other, such as: “You look like you really believe you’re going to get custody this time,” or “You look like the youth minister who needed a talking to.”

Amanda Walker and Craig Brewer in the bar that inspired Brewer’s The Poor & Hungry

“One time somebody told me I look like Malcolm X-Man,” says Black Nerd Power host Richard Douglas Jones, an early YLL player and convert.

The seminal Arkansas, gig at Nomads Music Lounge (regrettably titled “Memphis in Fay”) started late, in part because the Bluff City comics couldn’t stop playing their fun, new game. When the comedic bloodsport finally broke up, comic and YLL co-founder Tommy Oler grabbed Coleman by the elbow and told her the silly, mean, hilarious thing she’d started needed to grow into something bigger.

“I wasn’t sure. I just thought it was a thing I like to do,” says Coleman. For her, You Look Like was a warm-up exercise — the funny person’s equivalent of a gymnast stretching before a tumbling routine.

Oler took the idea to the P&H Cafe, where he was already hosting a popular Thursday night open mic. The idea was instantly green lit, and it wasn’t long before the eclectic Midtown bar famously associated with poor and hungry artists had to reconfigure its seating to accommodate bigger and bigger crowds turning out for comedy.

“I remember when I’d have 10 or 15 people at one of my shows, and I’d think it was the greatest thing,” Coleman says. “I’d get all excited and call my mom. Now, if there are only 50 or 75 at a show, I wonder if there’s some big concert at Minglewood Hall or something.”

Now, when episodes of the accompanying YLL podcast post late, out-of-town subscribers send grumpy messages. “It’s this really weird show that audiences seem to like and that the comics love to do,” Coleman says, floating a theory: “If you really love somebody, you’ll cut their heart out for a giggle.”

For all the terrible things being said on stage, the love inside the P& H is thick and sticky when, over the course of a week, Brewer and his local production team shoots the entire pilot season for a digital You Look Like series.

“You got robbed,” the winner of one round calls out, chasing down his opponent. “I know. I totally beat you,” the loser shouts back. Nobody’s angry. They’re all in this together.

“I’m not drunk enough to cry,” Coleman announces from the stage as the camera crew prepares to shoot the last five episodes of the 10-episode trial season. “But set your watches.”

Coleman, who certainly looks like the person most responsible for assembling the current big tent of modern Memphis comedy, then gestures to a ridiculous, clearly homemade crown spinning on a turntable just offstage: the winner’s prize.

“It’s still the You Look Like show,” she assures the “studio audience,” acknowledging that, in spite of the many physical upgrades to her show’s homemade aesthetic, “I made that motherfucker in my living room.”

A machine pumps fog into the room, standing in for the P&H’s famously thick cloud of cigarette smoke. Local writer/director Morgan Fox orders the cameras to roll, and the games begin in earnest.

The rules for You Look Like couldn’t be simpler. Two comics stand face to face, trading appearance-based insults: “You look like heroin might improve your life.” Or “You look like the Sorting Hat put you in House of 1,000 Corpses.” Like that. The meaner it gets, the more respect you can feel radiating from the combatants. When a round ends, the audience chooses a winner, and the loser has to gaze into a mirror of shame and play the game over again, solo, hurling insults at him/herself.

Brewer encountered the You Look Like Show while attending the 2016 Memphis Comedy Festival. The Hustle & Flow filmmaker had no idea that such a mature comedy scene had grown up in the artsy little beer joint at the center of his own filmmaker origin story.

For that festival, the show was moved to the Hi-Tone, and Brewer had initially assumed it was put on by a visiting troupe of comics from Chicago.

“I was like, ‘Wow, it’s so great that this touring group came in and did this,'” Brewer says in a phone interview from Los Angeles (where he recently added a new credit to his resume: co-executive producer of the hit show, Empire). Brewer was immediately corrected by fans who told him it was, in fact, a Memphis-based show that had been running for about a year at the P&H.

“Do you know where the P&H is?” someone asked. “Yeah,” Brewer answered. “I think I might know where that is.”

Seeing Brewer at work again inside the P&H causes epic déjà vu. The Madison Avenue bar, with its rotating cast of oddball regulars inspired his first movie, The Poor & Hungry. In the late 1990s and early 2000s, when he was still an aspiring filmmaker and part-time bookstore employee, Brewer would go to the bar to write his screenplays, shoot scenes, or screen daily “rushes” on the P&H’s ancient TV.

Although The Poor & Hungry never received wide theatrical distribution, the award-winning digital feature, shot on an impossibly low budget of $20,000 with a two-man crew, became Brewer’s Hollywood calling card. When other wannabes were slinging pitches, he was mailing out VHS tapes of a little movie about life at the P&H Cafe that arguably helped step up Hollywood’s digital shift.

“I felt like grandpa,” Brewer says, shocked but not all that surprised by the revelation that he and YLL shared a creative womb.

The following June, two-months after the comedy festival, Coleman received an unexpected voicemail: “Hi, this is Craig Brewer. I make movies. I saw your show and was wondering if you’d maybe like to get together and talk about it.”

Like any any mother faced with sudden, unknown change, Coleman’s initial response was caution. “Please, please, Hollywood, don’t take my ugly baby away,” she pleads emphatically, recounting her initial worry. “But Craig was great. He walked me through the whole contract and explained everything.” All Coleman really needed was assurance that the live show would be always be hers to do with as she sees fit, which had been the plan all along.

“See, the whole live show fits in this little, pink duffle bag,” Coleman says, giggling. As long as she could continue running it out of the P&H and taking it on the road, Coleman says she was up for just about anything else that might happen.

Brewer has always scouted opportunities for exporting Memphis talent and weirdness. In the 1990s, he shot footage of the city’s burlesque scene, resulting in his early short, Clean Up in Booth B. His team-up with MTV on $5 Cover resulted in Midtown’s rock scene playing a semi-fictionalized version of itself.

Unlike earlier projects, where Brewer was starting from scratch, You Look Like was complete and alive. Adapting it as a digital series was additionally enhanced by an all-local crew he’s been collaborating with for a decade and an uncommonly united comedy scene that’s spent the last five years learning to work together.

It’s like what comic Josh McLane says, making his way from the stage to the writers room: “I get paid the same if I win or lose. All that matters is if it’s funny.” That was the dominant attitude backstage during the YLL shoot, giving the whole event an old-school Memphis wrasslin’ vibe. Unlike wrasslin’, outcomes to the matches weren’t predetermined, but the beefs aren’t real, and everybody’s working together to bring serious pain from the top-rope.

“I’m addicted to this feeling now,” Brewer says, remembering the electricity in the room when the comedians hired to write jokes between rounds gathered around the P&H’s pool tables and built their insult database.

Richard Douglas Jones described the writing process as “completely organic.” When one vein of material ran dry, somebody would open another. “I will reinvent the wheel and run you over with it again and again,” he said. Brewer had one big concern. “There needed to be something positive coming out of You Look Like,” he says. “If you were looking at comedians tearing each other apart, you need to feel that they are friends. So, in a weird way, it could be inspiring.”

The backstage cooperation insured that that would be the case. “I left the experience asking, ‘How can I create that again,'” Brewer asks. “Can I go narrative with it? If we did a TV show, what would it be? And what are the jokes?”

That wasn’t the only feeling Brewer left with. He’d drifted away from the P&H after the passing of its colorful proprietress Wanda Wilson, the big-wigged protector of artists, misfits, and backgammon gamblers. “For a while that place lost its energy,” Brewer laments. Working on YLL assured him that the bar’s original spirit is alive and well under the current management.

So what’s next for YLL? The live show continues as usual but now with a new guest host every month. What happens with the pilot series is anybody’s guess, but there are some interesting possibilities: Maybe it gets snapped up right away by a streaming content provider. Or maybe the original series, like The Poor & Hungry, simply becomes a calling card — something Brewer can screen on his phone when he’s pitching ideas. Maybe a producer likes the web series but wants to know if the show can be adapted as a reality show or narrative comedy. “So many times you walk in with a pitch document, and you just don’t know how it’s going to turn out,” Brewer explains. “The network might say, ‘Oh, that’s great, but we want it with Snapchat stars.'”

YLL was a perfect catch for Brewer, who’d been actively looking for right-sized projects for his Memphis-based company BR2 and longtime collaborators like David Harris at Gunpowder & Sky, a production company co-founded by Van Toffler, a former MTV executive instrumental in purchasing Brewer’s Hustle & Flow at the 2005 Sundance Film Festival. He sums up YLL’s appeal — particularly for companies looking for unscripted material — in one exclamatory sentence: “Oh my God, you can highlight 20 comedians per season, and it’s already a living thing!”

Brewer thinks a few scenarios seem more likely than others. “These days, there are celebrities who want their Facebook page — or whatever — to be a channel. So there are comedians and celebrities who might buy it just to put on their channel,” he explained.

“And there are networks who might say, ‘Okay, this works on the digital level; what does this look like on the network level?’ But what I really wish is that we can take what we’ve made and just keep making more of that. We just made 10 episodes this first time, but if we do it again, we can make 50. Just plan for three or four solid weeks of work, where we just go in and bang it out.”

Oler, who no longer hosts the live show but remains affiliated with the digital project, says it’s exciting to imagine what YLL might be like as a movie or a sitcom. But he can’t shake the joy of knowing, wherever it goes, it started with a bunch of knuckleheads insulting each other on the patio at Nomads Music Lounge in Fayetteville.

“I’m just really thankful to have had a chance to work on this,” he says. Oler and Coleman are funny co-founders; they don’t agree about much. But they do agree that, given an opportunity to show its stuff, the Memphis comedy scene stood up.

The You Look Like Show is the third Saturday of every month at the P&H Cafe. Doors at 8 p.m. show at 9 p.m.

You Look Like a List
What comprises a perfect you look like insult? It has to walk a fine line between credibility and the absurd. Some require context, some are just funny no matter who they’re aimed at. Here’s a completely subjective list of great You Look Like lines.

You look like:

You support displaying the Confederate flag, but only because you don’t have any other good towels.

You masturbate with ranch dressing.

People who look like their dogs.

The most well adjusted person here, surgically.

One more sandwich and that shirt’s over.

You ask to speak to managers.

You regularly delete your search history.

Your head mole makes all your decisions.

You think the Dakota Access Pipeline is a porn trilogy.

The target audience for Buzzfeed articles.

You pronounce the L in Salmon.

You grew up outside a trailer.

Your spirit animal is a chain wallet.

You fucked up the proposal because you left the ring in your other cargo shorts.

You don’t mind talking to people while they’re using the bathroom.

You broke someone else’s ankle auditioning for Grease.

You were designed by scientists for the purpose of disappointing women.

Birdwatching makes you horny.

Group photos are always your idea.

Your husband hides your yoga pants.

The side bitch of Frankenstein.

God swiped left.

The guy other guys are totally okay letting their girlfriends hang out with.

You’re still waiting to hear back about that job.

Your dad is more proud of his other family.

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Craig Brewer Directing Eddie Murphy in Dolemite Biopic

Laura Jean Hocking

Director Craig Brewer (right)

Memphis director Craig Brewer has been secretly developing a film about Rudy Ray Moore for Netflix.

The film will star Eddie Murphy as Moore, the Los Angeles street comedian who gained fame as a fast talking pimp named Dolemite, who was featured in three groundbreaking blacksploitation films in the 1970s. This will only be Murphy’s second live action movie appearance since 2012.

David Shankbone – flickr, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=10220764

Eddie Murphy

Brewer will be directing from a script by Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski. The writers specialize in left-field biographical material, having penned The People vs. Larry Flynt, Ed Wood, Big Eyes, Man On The Moon, and The People vs. O.J. Simpson. In addition to filming The People vs. Larry Flynt in Memphis, Karaszewski is also a frequent guest and jurist at the Indie Memphis Film Festival. 
C. Neil Scott from Columbia, SC, US CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5183785

Rudy Ray Moore aka Dolemite

Brewer’s made-in-Memphis 2005 film Hustle & Flow was a box office hit that earned an Academy Award for Best Song and a Best Actor nomination for star Terrance Howard. He has recently been writing and directing episodes for the Fox TV hit Empire and producing the You Look Like comedy show in Memphis for independent studio Gunpowder and Sky. According to a report in Deadline Hollywood, shooting for the as-yet untitled Rudy Ray Moore film will begin in Los Angeles on June 12. 

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Film/TV Film/TV/Etc. Blog

Memphis Filmmakers Extoll The Virtues Of Barbecue With New Short

You know what brings out the A-list Memphis filmmakers? Barbecue.

We in the film community are united in our admiration of the glories of our civic dish. Local hero Craig Brewer got together folks like editor Edward Valibus, producer Morgan Jon Fox, cinematographer Ryan Earl Parker, and sound enginner Kevin Houston to produce this two-minute short film for Memphis Travel. Let this whet your appetite.

Behold, “Memphis Que”, then head out for lunch to your favorite barbecue joint.

Memphis Filmmakers Extoll The Virtues Of Barbecue With New Short