Matty Rich's group portrait of the black bourgeoisie in the 1970s -- no criminals, no musical stars, no athletes, just Afro hairdos, bell-bottoms, the funky chicken, etc. But the movie is not just devoid of poverty and violence, but of interest and subtlety as well. Which is to say it is not devoid of all types of poverty and violence after all. The character and home environment of a Martha's Vineyard assimilationist (Glynn Turman) are alone sufficient to scuttle the project. The cigarette holder, the brandy snifter, the emblazoned blazer, the tennis togs, the ice-cream-parlor wallpaper, the happy-face stickers, the row of Presidential portraits (Nixon's included), and above all the Foghorn Leghorn level of volume at which the man dispenses his philosophy ("This is America. Love it or leave it") -- all this is a heavy load. And it's not only the one character; it's the director -- as, for an unrelated example, in the teenagers' excursion to the swimsuit-optional beach, where any of the opters-out might be easily mistaken for Moby Dick. When the movie isn't going overboard, it's going nowhere. Stiffly, awkwardly, listlessly. True, its hero is coming of age, but that's no excuse for its director. With Larenz Tate, Joe Morton, Suzzanne Douglas. (1994) — Duncan Shepherd
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