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A worthy companion piece to 1991's
Boyz N the Hood, John Singleton's
Baby Boy expresses compassionate but unforgiving criticism of young, African American black men who lead reckless, irresponsible lives while blithely blaming racism for their chronic disadvantage. That's already enough to make this a provocative and emotionally challenging film, but Singleton injects his drama with such passionate vitality that it never seems inflammatory; instead, in presenting this portrait of a confused and conflicted 20-year-old black man named Jody (Tyrese Gibson), Singleton is both affectionate and accusatory, lending
Baby Boy an edgy, timeless wisdom that other, less courageous films could never hope to offer.
Unemployed and living with his 36-year-old mother (A.J. Johnson), Jody has fathered children from two young mothers and seems destined for an early grave. He never knew his father, but his mother's new boyfriend Melvin (played to perfection by Ving Rhames) is an ex-con with streetwise maturity that Jody, in time, will come to recognize and respect. This generational dynamic is the lifeblood of Singleton's central theme; Jody can follow Melvin's example or fall into the trap of lawlessness personified by Rodney (Snoop Dogg), a violent gangsta who arrives to threaten Jody's tenuous chance at a respectable adulthood. Through a wealth of fine performances and blistering dialogue, Baby Boy presents hard questions with no easy answers, and although Singleton is prone to polemical melodrama, his blunt approach serves a noble and ultimately hopeful purpose. --Jeff Shannon
A failed attempt at epic family-film-making by the writer-director John Singleton. The singer Tyrese Gibson stars as a whiny, going-nowhere man living in South Central L.A. with his mom and her boyfriend (A. J. Johnson and Ving Rhames, in strong performances). The drama is written in a style where every line is meant to convey something important, and the heavy-handed life lessons that Singleton doles out are unconvincing. He means to explore the directionless lives of young men who refuse to shoulder responsibility, but he's made a movie as meandering as one of his lost souls. -Bruce Diones
Copyright © 2006
The New Yorker