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Romeo Must Die Review by
Cynthia Fuchs
I know hiphop At
one point in this strange mishmash of high tech martial arts and feuding
families, the two starcross'd leads -- Han (Jet Li) and Trish (Aaliyah) -- are
trying to gain entrance into a trendy Oakland nightclub. Trish -- being the
daughter of local gangster Isaak O'Day (Delroy Lindo), as well as being, you
know, Aaliyah -- has instant cachet. But her companion, hot on the trail of his
brother's murderer and fresh off the plane from Hong Kong, obviously doesn't fit
in. And so they come up with a disguise: Trish lends Han her baseball cap to
wear backwards and pulls a lock of his hair to show through the front (gangsta
meets our gang?). He smiles. "I know hip hop," he says, then tugs at
his pants so they ride about a quarter of an inch lower than before, slumps his
shoulders, and pushes his pelvis forward. He
knows hip hop all right. Or rather, he knows what passes for hip hop in
mainstream movies, where it's typically reduced to designer-label baggy pants
and too-cool-for-school smirks. Despite its claim to marry hip hop and martial
arts (and excellent soundtrack, produced by Stanley Clarke and Timbaland), Romeo
Must Die really doesn't pay much attention to hip hop, except as a means to
get a young crossover crowd into theater seats. At the same time, however (and
almost in spite of itself), the film acts out and explicitly frames some of the
very politics that hip hop tends to highlight (if not always constructively
analyze or counter), having to do with racism and socioeceonomic power
structures. Consider,
for instance, the cultural and financial geography imagined by Romeo Must
Die. Its Oakland waterfront is "prime" real estate for a planned
NFL stadium, but of the eight lots that will seal the deal, four are owned by
blacks and four by Chinese. The film makes much visual hay out of the fact that
the deal is being sealed -- and orchestrated -- by a white (maybe Jewish) guy
named Roth (Edoardo Ballerini). Roth appears repeatedly assuming rich-white-guy
attitudes, on the golf course (deriding Isaak for hitting his ball into a
sandtrap) and in his tastefully appointed loft office (where a camera tracks him
across its spaciousness, pausing to admire an expensive architectural model of
the stadium). In other words, for all the violence wrought by the Chinese and
black contingents (and there is a lot of it), the real power still resides with
the usual suspect. (And it will be Isaak's tragic error that he imagines he can
muscle his way into an "owner's box.") While
this race-war dynamic fuels much U.S. penal rhetoric concerning the need for
(urban) order and containment (a rhetoric that tends to blame victims), in Romeo
Must Die, the dynamic is reframed. It's not about gangs in the hood, but
about families wanting to secure legacies: in other words, the Romeo and Juliet
story becomes a race war. Han's father, Mr. Sing (Henry O, known in Asia as Xi
Reng Jiang) and Isaak battle one another for the biggest chunk of the
waterfront-becoming-stadium-property pie, passing on their rage and frustration
to their eager-to-please but not-loyal-enough children (not Han and
Trish, who Fall In Love instead: more on that later) and untrustworthy
underlings (who, of course, seek other options and pay dearly for their
selfishness). The
film opens with a long shot following a fancy car into Oakland, with DMX's
blood-pounding lyrics: "Life is a lesson, and I am the teacher (What!?!).''
And yes, lessons start coming fast and loud. Han's brother Po (Jon Kit Lee) is
introduced making trouble at a club owned by a gangsta named Silk (DMX, who
appears briefly, wielding a large automatic weapon, not really teaching anyone
anything). When Po is killed, Han hears about it back in Hong Kong (where he's
serving time due to some crime committed and ducked by his father). Han turns
into Jimmy Cagney in White Heat, losing control in the cafeteria, he
slams some guards in the face with his fried rice; he soon finds himself hanging
in a cell surrounded by guards looking for revenge. What follows is a
spectacular fight scene, with Han swinging on his chain and bouncing off the
walls like he's in Thunderdome. After
his unbelievable and inevitable escape, Han lands neatly in Oakland, where he
promptly and neatly meets Trish, rebellious daughter, boutique owner, and
stylish dresser (she's always in midriff tops, no matter what the occasion:
clubbing or chasing assassins). This meeting allows her to mistake Han for a
cabdriver named Akbar, apparently so they can share several unfunny immigrant
cabbie jokes, usually at the expense of her inept bodyguard Mo (Anthony
Anderson). Han finds several reasons to show off his Jet Li moves: he spars
playfully with his father's Number Two, Kai (Russell Wong, of tv's Vanishing
Son) with a Naya water bottle as their prominent prop (a friend of mine
noted that they could have been doing a Naya commercial, their bottle-holding
poses are so well-framed and their smiles so on-cue). Or again, Han runs afoul
of Isaak's Number Two, a player unimaginatively named Mac (Isaiah Washington, a
consistently charismatic performer with not nearly enough to do here), who
challenges him to an informal football game in the park. At first Han doesn't
understand that when he has the ball everyone is supposed to hit him. Once he
construes this detail, he kickboxes his way through the multi-manned black crew,
whomping and kicking and punching each, as long as he's got the ball in his
hands. Han wins the game. Han should also win the girl, but this the most
troubled and troubling aspect of Romeo Must Die: it can't figure out a
way to make him a Romeo (except as one character briefly refers to him, thus
presumably motivating the title) to Aaliyah's Juliet. She's burning charisma and
Jet Li's no slouch, but they barely come into physical contact, much less kiss.
At film's end, after they've lost family members to murder and suicide, and
witnessed or caused the deaths and maimings of several worker bees (including
Françoise Yip, the brilliant Hong Kong action star who makes a not very
surprising surprise appearance as -- of all things -- a killer-biker with a big
gun), they literally walk off screen with arms barely around each other's
waists, looking for all the world like that "beautiful friendship"
just starting at the end of Casablanca. What's up with that? It
would seem that the film -- scripted by Eric (Surviving the Game) Bernt,
based on Mitchell (The Whole Nine Yards) Kapner's story, and directed by Lethal
Weapon 4 cinematographer Andrzej Bartkowiak -- can't quite imagine its way
out of the "cultural boundaries" it establishes as its political
framework. While warring Italian families might produce sexed-up, impetuous, and
passionate children (think Olivia Hussey, Claire Danes, Leo before the big
ship), the "kids" here are considerably more measured in their
responses to the insanity around them. Granted, Jet Li is thirty-five years old
and his Han is determinedly old school about codes of honor (and righteously
furious at his father for turning "native" in the U.S., that is,
becoming a fervent capitalist). And granted, Aaliyah is -- at twenty -- already
a seasoned, self-aware performer (her first record, Age Ain't Nothing But a
Number, went platinum when she was fourteen), and the film presents Trish as
level-headed and moralistic, not the type to jump into bed with just anyone,
even if the screenplay (positioning her as a "Juliet") would seem to
ask for it. But
the greater problem, I'd venture, is not the players or even the characters, but
the perversely ahistorical "historical" situations that the film
envisions, the impassable rifts between cultures and races and nationalities.
And, it's possible that all of these rifts come back to gender expectations in a
U.S.-made action film. It's plain that anxieties about seemly or respectable
masculinity are everywhere in Romeo Must Die (perhaps the title is a kind
of edict to virtuous boy lovers: you gotta ball to survive these days). Kai is a
ruthless mercenary with a nice ride, but the black men have the hugest weapons
and make the biggest noises. Trish is willing to shoot down villains, but she'd
rather not get into her dad's lousy business (and her most "emotive"
moments are spent in her childhood bedroom, amongst her stuffed animals). Her
brother Colin (D.B. Woodside) wants so badly for his dad to treat him "like
a man," that he's willing to betray his dad to get his attention. And Mac,
well, he's a stone killer with major ambition and a grudge against Isaak
(another father hang-up, in its unsubtle way). If
all these sound like racist stereotypes, that's the point. Familiar by
definition, they're included here to appeal to that tried and true action-movie
fanbase, the adolescent male viewers who supposedly "don't know any
better" (in fact, most of them do know better and frankly disdain the
simplistic pap with which action films seem so enamored). But the stereotypes
make the romance impossible. There's no way that a Chinese guy can ride off with
a black women and make it look convincing, despite Newsweek's recent
article proclaiming that "Asian men" are "on a roll"
(because, as good wage-earners and polite persons, they are now optimum objects
of desire for white women in the U.S.). And despite the fact that he's Han or
Jet Li. And this is the rub in a film that means to combine hip hop and martial
arts -- which, by rights and by Wutang dictates, should allow the most complex
transformations and interactions of gender, nationality, and power. Romeo
Must Die, by contrast, takes the least innovative male roles in each, the
tortured macho thug and the tortured honor-bound son, and gets stuck. Contents | Features | Reviews
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