Apart from being raucously funny from first line to last, Rock's film is a document of worth – at least for an ignorant cracker like me. The well chosen and well-edited talking heads that make up the film debate forthrightly the merits of painful chemical hair relaxants (a vaunted tradition,) and human hair weaves (a staggeringly expensive habit,) and why such excesses are so deeply ingrained in African American culture. Is it just common sense to cover up nappy roots? Maybe such extreme measures are an outgrowth of a minority self-image crisis in a primarily Caucasian country? Or, maybe, in spite of the questionable causes of seeking out "good hair," it simply isn't worth f***ing with a woman who wants to look her best. (This is the side that Mister Ice-T takes, in his infinite, smutty wisdom
) In discussion, Rock handles his subject alternately with reverence and irreverence, and his film comes away with few concrete conclusions; though it works like Michael Moore's muckracking at its funniest, this isn't any sort of agitprop. The tone is playful and provocative, and though the topic runs a little low on steam around the hour mark, that only means that Rock has to fill the last portion of his film with the finals competition of the Bronner Brothers International Hair Show, a display every bit as absurd as the climax of ZOOLANDER, but all the more hilarious for its, you know, actual, objective reality.
READ THE REST OF MY REVIEW (AND MORE) AT STEVENSPIELBLOG.COM ...
-Greg
READ THE REST OF MY REVIEW (AND MORE) AT STEVENSPIELBLOG.COM ...
-Greg