‘Straight Outta Compton’ explores early N.W.A. history
Even though it has been almost 30 years since N.W.A.’s album “Straight Outta Compton” was released (yes, children, there were once these things called “albums,” and they were “released” not “dropped”) - the film depicting the rise of the rap pioneers who created it feels just as urgent and resonant today.
As the nation still stands in the shadows of some ugly incidents involving race relations, the dramatization of how a group of young men from a particularly troubled city saw an escape hatch through music makes for a compelling story. Their autobiographical tales struck a chord with listeners, hurling them to stardom at an unexpected speed. It also struck darker chords within the media and the same oppressive forces that served as the fuel for their songs’ incendiary lyrics.
While they were able to climb from dimly lit neighborhood club stages to electrified stadiums flooded with light, they seemed unable to escape the red- and-blue glow of police sirens that followed them throughout their career.
And for the first hour or so, “Compton” feels just as compelling and driving as the ominous opening line of the album (and film): “You are about to witness the strength of street knowledge.” It’s only by the third act that director F. Gary Gray begins to lose the wheel, and it resembles more of a “Behind the Mic” sort of documentary, rushing everyone out the door. But until that point, the screen reverberates with anger, humor, heart and heaps of nostalgia.
Set during the dusk of the ‘80s in the bankrupt streets of southern California, a young O’Shea “Ice Cube” Jackson (here played by his son, O’Shea Jackson Jr.) and Andre “Dr. Dre” Young (played by Corey Hawkins), dodge their neighborhood’s metaphorical potholes by putting their efforts into music, with Cube painting the pictures to Dre’s booming beats.
Their pal Eric “Eazy E” Wright (played by Jason Mitchell) has the financial means to help them get some studio time, and the trio soon gets an added boost from DJ Yella (played by Neil Brown Jr.) and MC Ren (played by Aldis Hodge), and “Compton” emerges on the music scene, led by Cube’s scorched-earth lyrics, like those found in their most controversial song, “F**k tha Police.” Cube soon finds that writing about what he knows has echoed not only with millions of fans who packed stadiums to sing along with the chorus, but also with law enforcement members, who saw the song as a Molotov cocktail launched directly at them.
It’s here where the film operates at its peak. Gray captures the energy on and behind the stage, and as they prepare to take their tour across the nation, he gives it the feel of these young soldiers heading into battle to bring attention and justice to their plight.
Their meteoric rise caught the whole group by surprise, as they become awash in the various trappings of the superstar lifestyle we’ve seen before. And this is where the film pivots from its cultural significance and begins to slice itself into an episodic “greatest hits” montage, with cameos from a young Snoop Dogg, Tupac, earnest-but-slimy producer Jerry Hiller (played by Paul Giamatti) and ever-menacing producer Suge Knight.
By the time it reaches its closing scenes, its attempt to cover so much story gives the impression that there were many moments glazed over and brushed aside to keep fans happy (Dre’s masterpiece “The Chronic” is but a footnote, and his pesky assault lawsuits didn’t seem make the cut).
One wishes the second half would have catapulted its story to present day, in which the leads (minus Eazy-E, who died in 1995) could reflect on the cultural significance they had on music, media and the masses. Regardless, it’s still a thrill to watch these teens take their talents to heights they never thought possible and become a bold voice for a generation of listeners whose frustrations were encapsulated in NWA’s bombastic bass and piercing lyricism.