2 Stars
It was at eight years old that I first felt an inexplicable connection to Ice Cube. N.W.A songs like "Gangsta, Gangsta" and "Fuck the Police" reached out to me in a way that R.E.M. and Fleetwood Mac did not. He preached a playah mentality, one obviously formulated on a sound theory for success. For, since his days in the controversial rap group N.W.A., Cube has risen as a major playah in the entertainment industry, a dynamic force in both film and music.
Thus when I met Ice Cube in Chicago -- under the pretense of reviewing his latest film All About the Benjamins -- it was more a lesson than an interview that I was after. I was primarily there to learn, to listen and to take notes on the wisdom that Cube would undoubtedly impart to me. I traveled as apprentice to meet a master -- an aspiring player to meet The Playah -- as Luke Skywalker had met master Yoda, or as Spock had met his Vulcan elders.
I realized quickly that Cube is a bottom line, no-nonsense type of guy who tells it like it is. "You know I'm all about the Benjamins," he proclaims as bounty hunter Bucum Jackson in the film of that title. But the role isn't much of a stretch for Cube, who spoke candidly about his place in the film industry. "I get more love now [from studios] just because I'm making money. As long as you're making money, they'll love you." (I get the sense that Hollywood isn't much different from the Cherry Hill mall where my friends and I used to hang out: when we had money, we were "shopping"; otherwise, we were "loitering"). So lesson number one for an aspiring playah is simple: money is the highest priority.
Benjamins shamelessly takes up the theme of greed , as Cube's Bucum teams up with a small-time con man Reggie Wright, (played by Cube's co-star from Next Friday Mike Epps), to foil a group of diamond thieves and take the money for themselves. Set on the sunny streets of Miami, the film is populated by a number of beautiful women in glamorous settings. But they prove little distraction for the two men. As Reggie bluntly says, there's women and there's money, but money always takes priority. Lesson number two: women and money don't always mix. There's not too much room for romance in the playahs' club. "Love movies are just boring. They suck. I've never watched a love story all the way through," Cube told me, frowning. For the playah: first you get the money; then you get the power; then you get the women. But it's money first.
Cube's message spoke clearly to me, and, immediately after speaking with him, I was able to put the player ethics into practice. I met Beth from the University of Arizona on the way to the screening of Benjamins, and, after throwing down a few bills at Pizzeria Uno's later that night on some birch beers and pizza, it seemed like my king-size mattress at the Ritz Carlton would be just about the right size.
But being a player is not only about how many deep dish pizzas you can afford, or about how many public school girls you can lay. It is also about building a certain image that reflects your power. Cube assured me that he still is very much the same as when he had founded N.W.A. with Dr. Dre and Eazy-E. "I got a lot off my chest when I was younger. It's still there. But when you're young, you want to change the world."
He might not have tempered his views, but he admits that he has altered his approach to the entertainment industry for now: "[The audience] getting their money's worth is more important to me than shoving my ideology down their throats in some form of entertainment." He seems determined to make films true to his style without crossing into the abrasive material characteristic of his earlier hip-hop days. Lesson number three: the image of the playah can change, but the playah never does. If there really is a softer side to Ice Cube, he's not about to admit it.
Most of Cube's recent work has been in comedy, which seems strange territory for his trademark scowl and tough demeanor. While he promises more serious dramatic work in the future, Cube seems at home with comedy for now: "When you come from the neighborhood I come from, you have to find the comedy in it. You either laugh or cry about things. It's easier to laugh. So I choose to laugh."
But don't confuse player with jokester. Cube admits that he prefers comedic variety of a darker kind. Referring to the more dramatic moments of Friday, Cube said, "You look at it, and there's some real shit going on there. I mean like drug deals, drive-bys. Real shit." The mix of serious drama and light comedy in his 1995 co-writing debut no doubt has contributed to its enormous popularity. (I remember after seeing Friday how my best friend Randy and I would sit out on the stoop for hours trying to act like the film's main characters. But puff-puff-give doesn't work too well with Virginia Slims.)
A playah can delve into comedy for a bit, but he is always a realist, a serious type. He's a man of action, achieving autonomy and power by force as well as confidence. In the film industry, Cube has risen as a prominent Hollywood playah using a similar strategy. He created his own production company, Cube Vision, a few years ago in order to attain more independence in the industry, and, this year alone, he is producing three films, including Benjamins and the final installment to the Friday cadre, Friday After Next. "I'm not the kind to just sit by the phone and wait," he told me. Instead, he's taken up roles as actor, producer, screenwriter and director.
And now that he has established himself, Cube hopes to promote new talent in his films. Benjamins features Epps, who made his debut in Next Friday, as well as Lil Bow Wow and Charlie Chaplin's grand daughter, Carmen Chaplin. "I want to get people who are the party and not just at the party," Cube said. Lesson number four: a playah makes the party. For Cube, that means bringing something different to an often static industry.
Unfortunately, Benjamins fails just because it remains too conventional, a mediocre installment in the super-saturated genre of buddy action-comedies. Despite the camera work of video artist Kevin Bray and the chemistry between Cube and Epps, Benjamins can't help but feel like a hackneyed repeat of Rush Hour or Lethal Weapon. Still, the film is nothing more than a minor setback for Cube, who we'll, no doubt, be seeing a great deal more of in the future.
His words have no less of an impact on me now after seeing Benjamins. I have a picture as a momento of our meeting. My grandmother gave me a disposable camera on my graduation day so I could take pictures of landmark events in my learning experience. Each photo comes with a caption under it related to graduation. For three years I have waited to use it, never feeling like I had a memorable enough learning experience. But after my time with Cube, I realized that I had learned what I had always wanted to. And so I have a picture with Cube pointing at me as I smile, under which is the caption, "Summa Cum Graduate." It's my graduation picture, a signal of my progression from the school of hard knocks to the playah's club.
I also got a picture of the girl from Arizona, under which the caption says "Congratulations. "Thanks, Cube"
