#marclevin

Somewhere between my days as a DJ and an MC, I spent quite a bit of time in the realm of poetry, particularly what would be labelled as slam poetry.  As someone who (at the time) found standard definition MC’ng as limited, poetry was an opportunity to explore the broader limits of rhyme structure and verbal expression.  My timing couldn’t have been any better, because right around the same time, iconic poet Saul Williams was just beginning to make a name for himself.  He’d been doing poetry years before 1998 rolled around, but that year marked his entry into the broader public consciousness through the instant classic film that was Slam.

Dodge City, D.C. native and local weed dealer Raymond Joshua (Saul Williams) finds his life unexpectedly turned upside down during an evening meeting with his weed connection Big Mike (Lawrence Wilson).  After providing Big Mike with a bit of poetry to impress a lady friend, Ray becomes an unwilling witness as a shot from the shadows strikes Big Mike in the head.  Ray flees the scene and is immediately apprehended by police, arrested and booked for dealing drugs.  With word on the street pointing to Ray as Big Mike’s setup man, all eyes are on Ray as he enters the belly of the beast.  An inmate named China (Andre Taylor) immediately asserts his intentions to assault Ray, but Dodge City affiliate Hoffa (Bonz Malone) steps in to offer Ray protection.  Ray is hesitant to join the group, as the associated violence goes against his ideals, and at the moment of truth, Ray does what he knows best : speak immaculately.  With everyone in shock, Ray retreats, and runs into Lauren Bell (Sonja Sohn), an English teacher in the correctional system who is impressed by Ray’s poetry.  After Hoffa bails Ray out in hopes that he can sway Big Mike from retaliation, Ray reconnects with Lauren as he tries to sort out his life and his possible jail time.

While many films based around prison and its effects on the community aim to dissect its impact, Slam opts for holding literal prison up for comparison against the prison of the mind many often find themselves trapped in.  With both sides of the drug game given a chance to voice their side of the experience, we are left showing how poverty and circumstance can imprison entire societies before any single individual has even seen the inside of a cell.  With society structured to systematically erase the identity of those within it, Slam poses possibly the most important question of all : when the rubber hits the road, how hard are you willing to fight for you?  Outside of the personal struggle, the film gives an unflinching look at the prison industrial complex, its machinations, and  how it essentially serves as a human meat grinder looking for younger and younger people to be fed into it.  As mentioned before, many prison-based films are not afraid to present us with the seemingly unbreakable cycle, but Slam is brave enough to examine how that cycle can be broken.

As a protagonist, Ray initially (and for the majority of the film) falls into the roles of many hood-film protagonists before him by chiefly relying on his swagger and wits to survive.  Where he stands out, however, is how he immediately shows the true talent and potential, as well as mental capability necessary, to better his reality.  Although he does not back down from challenges, he shines in the moments where he chooses intellect over testosterone, and due to his selfless nature, he is able to actually make a positive impact on his community in spite of his almost certainly doomed future.  As humble as he is throughout all of the events of the film, Ray may be the closest example of an urban mystic that we’ve seen committed to film, and it is his magnetism (along with the connection he finds with Lauren Bell) that gives this film so much rewatchability.

One of the key elements in setting the film’s mood is the fantastic score by DJ Spooky, which drives home the fear and unease present among Ray and all those he crosses paths with.  The handheld, indie look the film utilizes (likely out of budgetary restraints) creates an incredibly visceral vérité experience, with the film looking and feeling lived in like an experience, and not simply just a watch and walk away experience.  The strong editing both indicates and undermines momentum, as if to show that life for those trapped in this cycle is moving, but true advancement is not a possibility.  The brilliant stroke of casting real individuals rather than actors emulating the roles further drives home the deeply moving nature of the film, with each character’s moments immediately connecting with viewers as authentic and not rehearsed.  It goes without saying, as this film was the first step on his skyrocket to success, but Saul Williams is on 10 at every moment he is given to let his compelling poetry take center stage.

Slam is the type of film that perfectly illustrates how casting people for roles that mirror their life in some sort can create compelling cinema.  Saul Williams looks the part of hard knock street native, but his intellect and compassion for his fellow man is what truly drives him, and his way with words inspires both within and outside of the film’s framework.  Sonja Sohn gives a stellar breakout performance as someone who has decided that their dark past does not directly determine the trajectory of their future, and attempts daily to awaken others.  Lawrence Wilson provides street-level authenticity, as well as allowing himself to be extremely vulnerable in showing his real life injury as a likely outcome for the lifestyle he chose.  Bonz Malone, probably the most well known name in the film, does what he does best by illustrating sly charm, camouflaged charisma and undying dedication.  Andre Taylor manages  to give personality without much to work with as a temporary threatening antagonist.  Beau Sia and Momolu Stewart step in with two of the most memorable film cameos in recent history, albeit from completely different ends of the likability spectrum.  Cameos from Rhozier Brown, Marion Barry Jr., DJ Renegade and a wealth of slam poets from the era fill out the cast.