Slam (1998)

Ray Joshua: The wind is the moon's imagination wandering. It seeps through cracks, ripples the grass, explores the unknown. My love is my soul's imagination. How do I love you? Imagine

By Marc Levin
With Saul Williams and Sonja Sohn

What a beautiful film. After reading my review of Filly Brown (2012), Tumor recommended Slam to me, as it had a few similarities in theme and topic. Where Filly Brown failed, Slam shone. What can I say this film is about? Is it about the legal system in the US (and of the legal system in general?) -- is it about the power of art -- of poetry, of language? Is it about the human passions and the ways in which they can be approached, understood, collaborated and negotiated with? Is it about personal hell, inner demons, motivation, and that stuff which keeps us going and gives purpose to life?

The film begins with a peaceful man, Ray, spending time writing and reciting spoken word poetry, and teaching children how to do the same. Later, he is approached by someone requesting marijuana and we discover Ray is a small-time drug dealer. He asks one of his business partners for more drugs as he's running out of product, but when they meet later that night, his friend is shot and Ray is taken to jail on possession charges.

Here starts the wonder of Slam. While to many the notion of jail implies a long stretch of boredom, we can see that prison instead serves as a kind of psychic pressure cooker, bringing out all the extreme character traits in a person. Here, the protagonist is forced to reevaluate the importance of his poetry, his lines-- his first night in prison he raps together with a man he later befriends, and we get the feeling this is the only thing keeping this fragile man from snapping. He begins to address his poetry as a way to survive,  as when he is coerced to choose sides in the hostile backyard, he instead recites an impassioned spoken word piece, which deeply moves everyone present, prompting one man to state "I fuckin' forgot what I was thinking".

Here I want to comment on Saul William's performance. It took my breath away--such power, such soul and meaning. It reminded me of a scene in The Shawshank Redemption (1994) where two of the prisoners hacked the speaker systems and played a beautiful classical melody. Everyone stopped what they were doing, and you could almost see this beautiful transformation happening, something innocent and life affirming showing on everyone's face.

For me, Slam is all about that. But it isn't a pretty film. Nothing about it speaks of gloss or shine--it's very rawly edited, rawly conceived. The clothing is precisely what you'd expect people in real life to wear, the dialogue is unpretentious. There is something so real, so organic about this film that brings it somehow closer to the viewer. And Ray isn't perfect. Even if he feels like what he did didn't warrant the kind of heat he's getting from the court, he isn't allowed to wallow in his self pity. This isn't about criticizing the social system as much as it's about owning up to your bullshit, about realizing that the world isn't what's out to get you, but that the first prison we erect is self constructed.

The symbolism in this film is subtle but pervasive. The friend who got shot was shot in the eyes and was blinded. When the protagonist gets out of prison, the first thing he says to his now blind friend is that he can "see". Themes of oppression and slavery become infused with themes of self destruction, about allowing others to take away your freedoms. In this sense the film was hopeful, optimistic even. Choose your prison wisely, it seems to say. The prisons you choose can build your road to freedom.

Most of all I think this was a film about love. Self love, love for your brother and sister, even sexual love wasn't seen as a kind of predatory frenetic mating but a true connection with another human being. If poetry is empathy and empathy is love, then this film is all about love, and learning how to love. Put the guns down.

I liked: The acting. The message. The poetry. The wonderful teacher who functioned both as a muse to the protagonist and someone who helped open his eyes. And like anyone with an ounce of wisdom, the lessons she showed him were learned the hard way.

I disliked: It could be argued that the film was preachy or didactic or moralistic. Maybe so -- but I bought it. And I think you would too.

89/100
A moving film. I highly recommend this to just about anyone. I can't imagine this being boring or an unworthy film for anyone.