#peterkim

I recently paid my friend Faylita Hicks a visit to pick up a copy of her book, Hoodwitch.  I had a nice long talk with her about creativity, music, navigating the world of COVID-19 and much more, and during this talk she mentioned a film that I’d scrolled past on Netflix, The Forty-Year-Old Version.  Her praise of the film was high and bountiful, which only served to further my curiosity about the film.  Therefore, it was no surprise that the movie found its way onto my year-end wrap-up list. 

Poet and playwright Radha (Radha Blank) is struggling with the obscurity that comes with unfulfilled promises in her career.  At the age of 30, Radha was placed on a prestigious list of “30 Under 30″ talents, but a decade later, Radha is struggling to put on plays above the workshop level, and her poetry is being used in an educational capacity rather than an entertainment one.  With mounting frustrations and limited opportunities quickly becoming her reality, Radha decides to take her destiny into her own hands by diving headlong into the world of hip-hop.

The Forty-Year-Old Version is a comical but heartfelt reflection on success and personal validation in the face of race-based hurdles that impede many journeys to success.  A commentary on how the white experience uses money and influence to infiltrate and reshape reflections on the black experience is also present, and strong enough to be taken into consideration without overshadowing the personal aspects of the story.  Many of these takes on race are masked in comedy to make them less jarring and easier to digest.  The real drama is found in both the budding romance story, as well as the palatable links between poetry and the art of MC’ng.  The importance of finding success on your own terms, rather than accepting opportunities that stem from guilt or pity, is the foundation that the narrative is built upon.

The film does a good job of representing a wide selection of race, lifestyle, culture and sexuality, all important aspects of telling a rich and non-polarizing story.  The way that spiritual resonance used for guidance runs parallel to how hip-hop can be freedom for the spirit rings very true to life.  Despite the film being about age and the complications that come with it, the approach has a youthful feel to it... the fact that hip-hop is such an ageist medium makes this youthful approach doubly interesting, considering the source of the story and her age.  As for the artistic aspects, hip-hop culture is represented nearly pitch-perfect without needing to be the driving force of the film, with its ‘steel sharpens steel’ nature helping to trigger Radha’s personal growth.  Respect is also a key element to the film, with narrative parallels running about how valuable it is, and how its dangled like a carrot in the theater world while it is more so earned in the hip-hop world, which in turn makes it more valuable than any currency.  Battle rap also plays an important part in the story, but does not dominate the remaining focus on other hip-hop aspects.

Visually, the black and white visual approach reinforces the independent debut spirit, while making a story with dated aspects feel much more like the timeless tale it has the potential to be.  When color is used, it serves to indicate breakthroughs into new realms and worlds of possibility... this specifically occurs in the insert shots, which serve the alternative purpose of punctuating key moments and references (still inserts for memories and testimonial or acting inserts punctuating emotion, respectively).  While the New York location is very much autobiographical, it is also hard to imagine this movie taking place anywhere else.  The creative writing present in the world of the film is handled extremely well, with the inspiration floating back and forth between Radha’s play and her songwriting.

Radha Blank mixes her self-confidence and personal drive with a reality-based hesitation that makes her character arc both inspiring and relatable.  Peter Kim does a great job of bringing the support that comes with familiarity to the table, with his brutally honest observations sometimes getting in the way of understanding Radha’s development.  Oswin Benjamin exhibits a quiet and observational nature, serving as a self-assured rock that contrasts Blank’s waves of doubt.  Reed Birney and his character’s obsession with gentrification speaks to shades of “White guilt”, and the manipulative methods some use to lessen the nature of its sting while absolving themselves of responsibility.  Imani Lewis and Haskiri Velazquez display the yin-yang contrasting nature of how youthful spirits either overly support or rebel against “authority” figures in their life, Antonio Ortiz and T.J. Atoms provide shades of a more mature and direct support to those they identify with, and William Oliver Watkins stands as a symbol for how primal trappings present themselves even when you’re in the midst of trying to achieve your dream.  Supporting appearances by Jacob Ming-Trent, Welker White, Andre Ward, Stacey Sargeant and Meghan O’Neill, among others, round out the captivating story.