Friday, June 14, 2019

Shaft: Still the man!

Shaft (2019) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated R, for violence, sexual content, drug content, brief nudity and relentless profanity

By Derrick Bang

Sometimes you can go home again.

That's my boy! After a long day of sleuthing — with a violent encounter or two along the
way — John Shaft II (Samuel L. Jackson, left) proudly drags his son, John Jr.
(Jessie T. Usher) to one of his favorite, babe-laden watering holes.
The humor is more frequent and deliberate than was the case back in 1971, and this new action thriller is unquestionably set in our modern world. And yet director Tim Story, along with scripters Kenya Barris and Alex Barnow, frequently evoke the feisty spirit and atmosphere of the half-century-gone blaxploitation era.

They also honor this film’s predecessors, with sly dialogue references, acknowledgments of past events, and — most crucially — generous nods to Isaac Hayes’ jazz influence. And not just the iconic main theme, but also several familiar underscore cues.

To be sure, this updated Shaft — as a character — owes more to Samuel L. Jackson’s 2000 revival, than to Richard Roundtree’s initial portrayal. The best one-liners are tailored to Jackson’s smug, sly delivery, and most of the plot gets its momentum from his ultra-cool presence. 

But Jessie T. Usher’s third-generation John Shaft Jr. definitely pulls his weight; he has been granted a personality engaging enough to carry a future series on his own shoulders, should fate (and box-office returns) move in that direction.

He’s introduced as an infant, during a flashback prologue which depicts the near-fatal ambush that proves one violent event too many for the baby’s mother, Maya (Regina Hall). Frightened beyond endurance, but still clearly in love with Shaft II (Jackson), she nonetheless begs him to leave them, and keep his distance. Which he does, reluctantly, his presence a reminder to John Jr. solely via a series of hilariously inappropriate birthday presents, as the years pass.

Along the way, Maya does everything in her power to groom her son into a sensitive, clean-cut, well-mannered and responsible young man: as unlike his father as possible.

Flash-forward to the present day, where John Jr. is the proud recipient of an MIT diploma, and is newly ensconced as a rookie FBI data analyst in an office overseen by short-tempered Special Agent Vietti (Titus Welliver, utterly wasted in an underwritten, one-dimensional role). John Jr. has retained two best buds since childhood: Karim (Avan Jogia), who always had his back; and Sasha (Alexandra Shipp), now a doctor at a New York City hospital.


But Karim has been off the grid for awhile, after war service turned him into a shattered, PTSD drug addict. John Jr. therefore is delighted to hear from his long-absent friend, newly clean and sober, who nonetheless Has Something On His Mind. He promises to explain everything, but only after taking care of some brief business; in the venerable tradition of such stories, he’s found dead the next day. Of an overdose.

John Jr. doesn’t believe it. 

But he lacks the inner-city savvy to do more than jeopardize his own safety, while attempting an ill-advised investigation. With nobody else to ask, he turns to the person he hoped never to encounter: his father.

Much to that man’s amused delight.

Considerable humor is derived from this extreme generation gap, which begins with John II’s horrified reaction to his son’s millennial/preppy collegiate appearance and trendy “white boy” attire. Dad’s equally aghast suspicion that his son’s apartment is similarly dandified proves accurate, down to the lemon-filled glass canister on the kitchen counter.

John Jr., in turn, can’t believe that his father still struts around in a long-outdated rust/suede leather duster. Nor is the by-the-book FBI agent comfortable with his father’s smackdown approach to the gathering of information, constitutional rights be hanged.

But although these yawning-chasm differences in personality, appearance and method initially are played for quick chuckles, it’s fun to watch both men struggle to adjust and accept each other. That said, John Jr. does most of the adjusting, as his father (im)patiently struggles to make his son more “street.”

Karim’s death quickly leads to a rehab center for returning vets, which he recently founded with Army buddies Gary (Matt Lauria), Keith (Robbie Jones) and Eddie (Aaron Dominguez). Involvement in such a worthy endeavor merely confirms John Jr.’s belief that Karim didn’t kill himself. 

Subsequent suspects include tough-talking Bennie (Luna Lauren Vélez), owner of a neighborhood market that might be a front for some sort of illicit activity; and John II’s longtime nemesis, drug kingpin Pierro “Gordito” Carrera (Isaach de Bankolé).

There’s also an extremely clumsy subplot involving Farik El-Amin (Amato D’Apolito), imam of a local mosque believed by the FBI to be a breeding ground for Islamic terrorists; apparently El-Amin’s daughter was dating Karim (which seems beyond unlikely). This sidebar feels like a contrived attempt to be “topical” in a manner this film definitely doesn’t need, particularly when the consequences of this issue are abruptly dropped during the third act.

Story and his writers are on much firmer ground when they stick to both Shafts and their respective romantic entanglements. Hall is a hoot as the exasperated Maya, who cannot believe John II has bounced back into her life; Shipp gives Sasha a surface charm and sweetness that belies the fact that she’s a tough young woman who won’t take crap from anybody. Watching her blaze into defiant fury is just as much fun as seeing John Jr.’s “hidden talents” gradually revealed, as the story progresses.

Usher and Shipp also make the dynamic between John Jr. and Sasha quite endearing. It’s obvious that their attraction is much deeper than mere friendship, but neither is quite willing to chance screwing up a lifelong bond with an impulsive declaration of love.

Usher also makes John Jr. personable in his own right. He’s proud of his analytical and computer skills, and feels no need to justify or apologize for any aspect of his personality, despite his father’s frequent withering gazes.

Richard Roundtree also is a welcome presence as the original Shaft, lamentably unseen until the third act. He still possesses the all-important swagger and sass, augmented now by a twinkle in his eye, as he assesses the competence of the next two generations. (Amusingly, Roundtree is only six years older than Jackson.)

The abundance of engaging supporting performances notwithstanding, this is Jackson’s picture … and he never lets us forget it. Every one-liner is a gem, even when they’re wincingly sexist, vulgar and profane. He gets away with the crudest, most offensively demeaning sexual gibes because … well, because he’s Samuel L. Jackson. Even though he never officially breaks the fourth wall, we can’t help feeling that he’s eyeing us, in the audience, and is well aware that he repeatedly — deliberately — steps over the line.

The mosque/imam nonsense aside, Story paces his film well; the plot progresses through an enjoyable series of minor skirmishes that establish John II’s stature — still the black private dick that’s a sex machine to all the chicks — while building to a suspenseful, bullet-laden climax. Along the way, John Jr. does his best to acknowledge that it’s also his duty … to please that booty.

This new Shaft may be a shameless guilty pleasure, but it’s a well-crafted one. The franchise — should it continue — appears to be in good hands.

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