Three stars. Rated R, for relentless profanity and crude behavior, and drug use
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 9.1.17
An endearing saga of empowerment
beats within writer/director Geremy Jasper’s debut feature, but it’s too
frequently buried beneath crude behavior, relentless vulgarity and a wildly
uneven tone.
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| As the enigmatic Basterd (Mamoudou Athie) listens warily, Patti (Danielle Macdonald) outlines a plan for a rather unusual rap group with her grandmother (Cathy Moriarty). |
Jasper can’t get out of his own
way. He makes the rookie mistake of larding his film with twitchy
cinematography, tight-tight-tight
close-ups, and a surfeit of artistic aggression undoubtedly intended to mirror
his protagonist, but which too frequently feels like an assault on our senses.
A mere 15 minutes into this
flick, I wanted to bolt the theater. Patience proved a virtue, as Jasper
eventually found his footing, and his film — and its star — ultimately won me
over. But not everybody was as generous, during last week’s preview screening;
several people abandoned ship. It was hard to blame them.
Patricia Dombrowski (Danielle
Macdonald), a plain, plus-size 23-year-old member of America’s working poor,
ekes out a marginal existence in her dilapidated New Jersey home town. When not
enduring insults during late-night shifts as a bartender in a seedy
establishment populated by local losers, she’s stuck at home with a bitter,
bitchy, boozy mother (Bridget Everett, as Barb) and a wheelchair-bound
grandmother (Cathy Moriarty, as Nana).
Patricia’s fantasy escape route
is fueled by her fixation on famed rap god O-Z (Sahr Ngaujah), whose posters
fill her bedroom walls; she dreams of stardom under the alias of Patti Cake$ or
— better still — Killa P. Truth be told, she’s a talented poet and nimble
rapper, but nobody takes her seriously: particularly not Danny Bagadella
(McCaul Lombardi), the swaggering townie who dominates the local rap scene, and
cruelly calls her “Dumbo” and “White Precious.”
Patti isn’t entirely without
allies; she shares her passion for rap with BFF Jheri (Siddharth Dhananjay), a subdued
young pharmacist by day, who blossoms into a wildly enthusiastic R&B
crooner after hours. He believes in her, far more than she believes in herself.
But faith isn’t enough, particularly when — at home — Patti must contend with
her larger-than-life mother, who still resents the now grown result of an
unintended pregnancy that derailed her own music career.
Everett’s Barb is frankly scary:
a formidable force of nature so intimidating that one must credit Patti for
having the chutzpah to stand up for herself. The uneasy mother/daughter dynamic
is established early on, when Barb wades into the bar on karaoke night, and
demands three quick shots from Patti: the latter two poured with long-suffering
resignation, and full awareness of what is to come.
