All Eyez on Me Dilates Rap’s Pupils

By Katherine Monk

Tupac died more than 20 years ago now. The man born Lesane Parish Crooks was gunned down on the streets of Las Vegas in a black BMW driven by Suge Knight on September 13, 1996. Yet, the resurrection continues.

It’s not an Elvis kind of thing, either. People do not see Tupac in diners or on street corners snarfing down deep fried corndogs behind chrome-armed shades. Tupac Shakur’s image covers walls from Compton to Melbourne, creating countless public shrines from spray paint that capture his almost Christ-like gaze: a calm understanding of injustice, and a deep presence of love. The only difference is the unspoken “fuck you” in the cock of his unbending head.

That’s the part that’s all Tupac, and it’s the Shakur that director Benny Boom is desperate to capture in this long-awaited biopic about the performer who achieved legendary status before his untimely death at 25.

Boom goes all the way back to the beginning as a result of the exhaustive screenplay from Jeremy Haft, Eddie Gonzalez and Steven Bagatourian. Little Tupac is nothing more than a bump in the middle of his mother’s tummy as she raises a Black Panther salute in the opening scene.

Afeni Shakur (Danai Gurira) has just been acquitted on conspiracy charges involving the Panthers and bombings in New York City. She had no lawyer, called witnesses, testified on her own behalf, and successfully fought the power while pregnant with her first child at the age of 22.

If you ever wondered where Tupac got his will, all you have to do is look at Afeni. That said, it was a good move on everyone’s part to start there. It places Shakur in a potent womb of protest that forms the fibre of his muscular thoughts and flexed wordplay.

From there, we move into some early childhood memories featuring a really cute kid who loves his mom and believes in good, only to have all sense of happiness shattered with a scene of a SWAT team crashing Christmas morning.

We need all these different experiences to form the backstory, to deconstruct the public mythology, and to pull us closer to the character.

Yet, something strange happens when we actually meet our leading man, all grown up in the form of Demetrius Shipp Jr. — a kid who was working at Target before sending his audition tape to producers. He bears a close physical resemblance to Tupac, made all the more striking with the addition of a faux “Thug Life” tattoo and some built-up abs, but the steely eyed gaze and the fired-up soul doesn’t always register.

What we get ends up feeling more like a ‘dramatic re-enactment’ of events more than anything structurally, or emotionally ‘dramatic.’ He looks, acts, and walks like Shakur, so the whole denouement has an eerie, fly-on-the-wall feeling — as if you just landed in something that looks like Shakur’s life, only it’s wallpaper.

What we get ends up feeling more like a ‘dramatic re-enactment’ of events more than anything structurally, or emotionally ‘dramatic.’ He looks, acts, and walks like Shakur, so the whole denouement has an eerie, fly-on-the-wall feeling — as if you just landed in something that looks like Shakur’s life, only it’s wallpaper.

Shipp does all the right things, and he definitely conveys humanity and warmth. What’s missing is the rage, the fire-forged feelings and profound desire to forgive, and be forgiven, that made Tupac the icon he continues to be.

All Eyez on Me offers all the details of a news digest for those interested in trying to solve the big question: Who killed Tupac? … if he’s even dead. In the end, it’s the questions that seem to matter more than the answer. Mystery powers mythologies, and Tupac’s appears destined to last through the ages.

@katherinemonk

THE EX-PRESS.COM, June 16, 2017

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