thoughtcrumbs

Rob Lowe's good looks aside, one of the reasons The West Wing is so successful is its clever banter. The dialog is its own character, prominent in every scene and quoted the next day around the proverbial water cooler. Don't we all wish we were able to fire such witticisms in rapid succession? As such, I have great respect for both Aaron Sorkin, the producer, and those real life political pundits whose college debating skills pay off on a daily basis. Now, on the other side of the tracks is another group of sharp-tongued interlocutors, whose verbal freestyling is undeservedly criticized for the lifestyle it entails: the inner-city rappers dueling nightly on the mic and the streets. (Okay, yes I sound like a poseur, or like Ben Folds, all alone in my whiteboy pain. And yes, this entry is informed entirely by the movie I saw last night. But just pretend I have enough cred a couple paragraphs, m'kay?)

Eminem's surprisingly poignant 8 Mile, like The West Wing, features fast, hard-hitting dialog constructed like the best legal arguments: acknowleding your opponent's viewpoint and then discrediting it point by point. "Yes, I'm white. Yes, I live in a trailer park with my mom. Yes, I work at a shitty factory. Yes, six of your boys beat me up last night. And yes, you slept with my girl. But I'm still here saying fuck you. What can you say that I don't already know?" At the weekly battles, rappers get 45 seconds to dis each other in front of an antagonistic crowd. I doubt corporate lawyers could handle the pressure. This intense sparring garnered wild cheers and clapping from a theater of white, fleece-ensconced suburban professionals in Portland.

Sadly, the rest of the movie lacks much substance; potentially thoughtful scenes, such as the moment between Eminem and wannabe rapper Cheddar Bob, are cut short, and many details are whitewashed, making Eminem look only slightly scrappy but definitely as lovable than Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting. And now for the non-sequitur: The title sequence font was appropriate; seemingly friendly letters with razor sharp descenders, kind of like fanged smiles.