Howard’s Flow Galvanizes Indie Sensation

Just because life is lived in the gutter doesn’t mean the person doing the living doesn’t have dreams. Take Memphis hustler DJay (Terrence Howard). His life is stuck on a dead-end street dealing every day with the fringes of society who want nothing to do with him. Not that it matters. As long as his diminutive white trash whore Nola (Taryn Manning) can keep turning tricks, stripper Lexus (Paula Jai Parker) keeps taking her clothes off and smooth-talking club owner Arnel (Isaac Hayes) keeps buying his weed everything will probably work itself out.

Work out, that is, if your definition for such a thing is to live in a rundown shack of a house in the middle of the projects with two hookers (one of whom is pregnant) and one stripper while gunfire ricochets across the neighborhood. Not exactly glamorous and DJay can’t believe this is all life is as good as it is probably going to get. But when he learns local-boy (and platinum-selling rapper) Skinny Black (Ludacris) is making an impromptu Fourth of July visit, DJay sees a chance to dig his way out of the gutter. With the help of an old friend, Key (Anthony Anderson), and a local church musician, Shelby (DJ Qualls), with a beat machine he’s going to lay down some base-thumping crunk tracks guaranteed to blow Skinny Black’s mind. One last hustle stands between DJay and stardom, and with everything on the line he’s going to make it the hustle of a lifetime.

Sundance favorite “Hustle & Flow” has been winning fans and accolades everywhere it goes, so popular and self-assured it earned writer-director Craig Brewer a multi-picture deal from Paramount, For once, all this fan favor isn’t much ado about nothing. While this down and dirty indie doesn’t break new ground or go anywhere unexpected, it’s still a completely enthralling ride full of punch, panache and power.

I know almost nothing about rap and I’m not going to try and be more knowledgeable than I really am. It’s not exactly the style of music percolating in my CD changer. In fact, I’m almost loathe to admit I now have this almost unholy fascination with original American Idol Kelly Clarkson. So she’s bubblegum rock, I still love her, and pardon me if I spend a couple seconds every day or so wishing we could trade places. (Hey, I’m not all bad. I also adore Garbage, Tori Amos, Tom Petty and The White Stripes.) So, with all this in mind, imagine how much I know about this thumpity-thump-thump southern subdivision of hip-hop called crunk? If I say nothing, absolutely nothing with so little sugar sprinkled on top it might as well be NutraSweet, it still wouldn’t fully represent how little I really know.

So what? What I do know is a good movie when I see one, and “Hustle & Flow” is a very good movie. Brewer makes directing look easy, his film transitioning act to act with the gritty seamless sincerity of a vintage Altman or Scorsese back when both were just getting their feet wet in the early 1970’s. In fact, the director’s handling here reminded me of the latter filmmaker’s “Mean Streets.” Like Scorsese scouring the streets of New York, Brewer is so confident, so at ease amidst the crazily calm and lackadaisical whimsy of Memphis’ seedier pathways I almost felt like I was there. What he does is remarkable, showing all the showmanship and bravado behind the camera of a director with far more under his belt.

There is no mistaking the fact that “Hustle & Flow” is a redemption piece about a pimp. Not just any pimp, mind you, but a pimp of such low character and personal self esteem you can smell the s**t covering his boots as he walks into a room. Not exactly the most likable of human beings under even the best of circumstance, and yet Howard is so good, so completely immersed within the role, it is impossible not to start rooting for him the closer he gets to his dream. Already having delivered one award-caliber performance this year in “Crash,” he goes so far beyond the work he did in that film I’m almost tempted to call that work second rate. The man is phenomenal, fearlessly digging into every one of DJay’s more unsavory facets yet still being able to make him both sympathetic and humane.

The rest of the cast nearly matches him. For the first time in ages Anderson doesn’t annoy, opening up like he never has before. Manning, subtlety building Nola into a surprising beacon of ferocious strength, and Qualls, who has the movie’s single funniest moment, are outstanding, while rapper Ludacris is wonderful as the duplicitous Skinny Black. It is Taraji P. Henson as that aforementioned pregnant hooker that makes the most impact, though. Whether looking on in dreamy rapture as DJay gets his flow going or trying desperately to squeak out a chorus track to earn his belligerent approval, the woman shines like a shattered ladybug doing all she can to dig herself out of monstrously venal pile of garbage.

Don’t misunderstand. On many levels this is not an easy flick to embrace. Besides the central player being neigh unredeemable, Brewer doesn’t exactly take things to a place that’s not already a forgone conclusion. This is a true-blue Cinderella story right down to the foul-mouthed laced-in-blood glass slipper, the only thing missing a final celebratory kiss between star-crossed love birds. It is an insanely cliché scenario, all of it revolving around a man so abhorrent his middle name might as well be mud.

None of this really matters. The film is so stupendously potent and well made it’s easy to gloss over many of its rough edges and forgive Brewer for his missteps. His screenplay is organic, every action and reaction honestly earned and justly deserved. As for that music of which I know nothing about, I may not usually go for this kind of stuff but it’s still sensationally effective here. The raps are like messed-up masterpieces of masochistic misogynistic brio, surging with energy and rhythm so strong they’re like Jäger-Bombs splashed with a stick of dynamite.

When all is said and done, “Hustle & Flow” is Howard’s show all the way through and he never disappoints. This is the performance of the year, the actor so on top of his game even someone as distasteful as DJay can still come across like a star. This, really, might just be Brewer’s ultimate point. If someone as venal DJay can put everything he knows and loves on the line for a dream, why can’t the rest of us?

Film Rating: êêê  (out of 4)