Mo’ Better Blues
“Mo’ Better Blues” is a film sandwiched in between more important, socially-conscious work from Spike Lee. It followed “Do the Right Thing,” and was followed by “Jungle Fever,” and then, “Malcolm X.” Maybe Lee would disagree if I say that “Mo’ Better Blues” is a film with a more popcorn sensibility than any of those films. That’s part of why it doesn’t really resonate with me as much as other Lee films do, even though it’s subject- a jazz musician whose control over his life spirals out of control- should be right up my wheelhouse. I love listening to the music (composed and performed by Branford Marsalis Quartet and Terence Blanchard, though credited to Bill Lee); the drama, however, lacks energy.
The film begins in 1969, and Bleek Gilliam is a kid, his mother pushing him to practice trumpet while his friends are out the window, yelling in hopes of getting him out to play. Not until he’s done practicing. What about then? We’ll see. That drive continues in him over the years, and when we hit the present day, he is a successful jazz musician in Brooklyn (and now played by Denzel Washington), with a quintet including Shadow Henderson (Wesley Snipes) on sax, Left Hand Lacey (Giancarlo Esposito) on piano, Bottom Hammer (Bill Nunn) on bass and Rhythm Jones (Jeff ‘Tain’ Watts) on drums. They’re doing well, but as they continue to pack them in, the pressure for their manager, Bleek’s friend (Giant), to get them a new deal causes friction in the band, and Bleek’s love life gets complicated. The drive for musical successful is all-encompassing to Bleek. When the rest of his life starts to intrude on that, however, Bleek’s choices threatened to detail everything that drive has brought him, isolating him even further.
This was the first time Denzel and Spike Lee collaborated, and it’s a good primer for what was to come. Bleek is not as complex a character as Malcolm X or Jake Shuttlesworth, his character in “He Got Game,” but this is an up-close look into the psyche of the character that fits nicely with those later films. What makes Bleek interesting is the degree of control he tries to maintain in his life- whether it’s with the band or in his personal practice regiment- and how that gets in the way of his personal relationships, especially with the two women he’s seeing- Indigo (Joie Lee) and Clarke (Cynda Williams). He keeps himself at arms length, isolating himself with his band members, and both women. His closest confidant, other than his father, is Giant, but he’s a manager who also has a profound gambling addiction, so we see him- at times- asking Bleek for money, while Bleek is feeling the pressure to get more for he and the rest of the band. Washington is terrific in the role, and his work as a physical actor is perfect for conveying Bleek’s focus, with one of the best shots of the movie being early on, and Bleek is practicing his fingerings, and it’s a straight-on profile shot of Washington’s face. The thought process is easily conveyed, and it draws us into his mind. There are other strong, fun performances in this film (Snipes is probably the next best as the egotistical Shadow), but it’s Washington’s that makes this a must-see.
When the film centers on the music, it’s phenomenal to watch. When it focuses on Bleek’s mindset, it’s fascinating. When it deals with its narrative, I kind of check out of the film. The band drama and whether they get their money, and whether Giant can get them their money, is pure plot mechanics, and it’s kind of dull to watch. It all leads up to a last act of the movie, though, where the focus returns to Bleek after a brutal fight. I do not want to spoil it for you, but it’s one of the richest individual stretches of film of Lee’s career, bringing the narrative to a place we don’t expect, but are engaged in all the way to the final shot, which shows the growth of Bleek throughout the film. I don’t particularly love the film, but it’s worth watching as a different type of film for both Lee and Washington in their careers.
