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Block Party (2005)
Mar. 9th, 2006 09:32 amSo ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
holyoutlaw and I went to see Dave Chappelle's Block Party last night. It's a concert film about a party Chappelle threw in the Bed-Stuy neighborhood of Brooklyn in August 2004 in celebration of the $50 million contract he signed with Comedy Central (and promptly walked away from). The movie covers three days, beginning with invitations to various people in his hometown in Ohio, and ending with the party itself, which is a street concert featuring a number of acts, including Kanye West, Mos Def, the Roots (playing the backup band for most of the rappers), and the reunited Fugees. Most of the rappers seemed interesting at least rhythmically, but they rapped so fast I couldn't make out most of the words. Then again I was unfamiliar with most of the music. The performers that interested me enough that I might seek CDs were Erykah Badu and Jill Scott, who both sang in more of a soul vein, with two very different but very powerful, complex diva voices. (The same could be said of Lauryn Hill of the Fugees, but for some reason I found her singing less interesting and more Whitney Houston-like.)
Chappelle is the clown who holds it all together, and he brings a very relaxed, congenial mood to the affair. The commentary on race gets very pointed at times. (Q: How many white people does it take to change a light bulb? A: None. They get a nigger to do it.) But nobody really escapes the mockery, as when Chappelle claims that he predicted that the DC snipers were black, because they took the weekends off. In fact, the vibe of the movie is very we-are-family, with lots of affection for everyone who gets pulled into the operation. Chappelle comes across as charming and goofy and not afraid to tell lame jokes just because. A final sermon from Wycleaf Jean (who immigrated here from Haiti) exhorts the young members of a college marching band to get an education and to forget about blaming white people for their problems, to take responsibility for, and thus control of, their own lives.
After the movie, we repaired to the Big Time for nachos, and I drank a couple of Nemesis strong ales, which made me pretty gabby, I must say. Sounds like plans for the wedding are progressing, and now he andjuliebata just have to figure out what they're going to say at the ceremony. How about, "Ook ook aieeee!"
holyoutlaw and I went to see Dave Chappelle's Block Party last night. It's a concert film about a party Chappelle threw in the Bed-Stuy neighborhood of Brooklyn in August 2004 in celebration of the $50 million contract he signed with Comedy Central (and promptly walked away from). The movie covers three days, beginning with invitations to various people in his hometown in Ohio, and ending with the party itself, which is a street concert featuring a number of acts, including Kanye West, Mos Def, the Roots (playing the backup band for most of the rappers), and the reunited Fugees. Most of the rappers seemed interesting at least rhythmically, but they rapped so fast I couldn't make out most of the words. Then again I was unfamiliar with most of the music. The performers that interested me enough that I might seek CDs were Erykah Badu and Jill Scott, who both sang in more of a soul vein, with two very different but very powerful, complex diva voices. (The same could be said of Lauryn Hill of the Fugees, but for some reason I found her singing less interesting and more Whitney Houston-like.)Chappelle is the clown who holds it all together, and he brings a very relaxed, congenial mood to the affair. The commentary on race gets very pointed at times. (Q: How many white people does it take to change a light bulb? A: None. They get a nigger to do it.) But nobody really escapes the mockery, as when Chappelle claims that he predicted that the DC snipers were black, because they took the weekends off. In fact, the vibe of the movie is very we-are-family, with lots of affection for everyone who gets pulled into the operation. Chappelle comes across as charming and goofy and not afraid to tell lame jokes just because. A final sermon from Wycleaf Jean (who immigrated here from Haiti) exhorts the young members of a college marching band to get an education and to forget about blaming white people for their problems, to take responsibility for, and thus control of, their own lives.
After the movie, we repaired to the Big Time for nachos, and I drank a couple of Nemesis strong ales, which made me pretty gabby, I must say. Sounds like plans for the wedding are progressing, and now he and
juliebata just have to figure out what they're going to say at the ceremony. How about, "Ook ook aieeee!"
