directed by Boots Riley
starring LaKeith Stanfield, Tessa Thompson, Omari Hardwick, Danny Glover, Terry Crews, Armie Hammer, Jermaine Fowler
People of color are having something of a moment in the filmmaking arena. Further, Oakland-based actors, filmmakers and locations are experiencing a comeup. So I was chomping at the bit to see Sorry To Bother You. (That metaphor will be more apt once you see the film for yourself.) I was left feeling that this movie, for all of its groundbreaking story, visual virtuosity, unique characters, and cultural commentary, may have bitten off more than it can chew. This could have made a really interesting cable series, much like "Atlanta," in which star LaKeith Stanfield also appears. Sorry To Bother You is overstuffed with potent observances, visual jokes, surrealist setups, witty dialog, awkward humor, and jaw-dropping reveals. Honestly, I wasn't really ready. It's ... a lot. A LOT.
This first feature from Oakland writer, musician, and director Boots Riley is an absurdist, surreal meditation on capitalism, racism, classism, corporate greed, art as political commentary, media, technology, civil disobedience, black culture, and moral integrity. At least, these are the myriad ideas this mind blower of a film touches on at breakneck speed. Riley takes the time-honored plot about an everyman who makes something of a Faustian bargain and twists expectations, especially with the main character of Cassius Green, played by nerd savant LaKeith Stanfield. (Apparently some of Stanfield's eccentricities are not just on screen, according to a profile in the New York Times).
Here's a basic synopsis, but I'll let other reviewers attempt to explain the final third of the flick:
Mild-mannered Cassius lives in his uncle's garage, drives an ancient, patched-together economy car, and needs a job to catch up on rent. His free-form, woke girlfriend Detroit (Tessa Thompson) twirls signs and creates performance art on street corners for a living. Desperate for a job, Cassius bullshits his way into a miserable telemarketing sales gig. When his uncle Sergio (Terry Crews with hair) is threatened with losing their home, Cassius decides to take the advice of a fellow phone-room veteran, played by a gleefully loose Danny Glover, and soon becomes a sales star who is promoted to the lofty penthouse area where "power callers" make megabucks deals. And in a surreal visual delight, with every call, we see Cassius, his desk and headset land from the ceiling with a bang into the habitat of his customers -- in their kitchens, while they're on the toilet, while making love, into their office, while smoking a joint.
His secret, as anyone who has seen the trailers knows, is to use his "white voice" on the calls. This is really no secret to people of color working within the confines of corporate America, who often find themselves code-switching in different situations. But Sorry To Bother You takes the concept to its absurdist extreme -- so much so that the "white voices" used by Stanfield and his Power Caller idol, played by Omari Hardwick in an inexplicable bowler, eyepatch and muttonchop sideburns combo, are actually dubbed by white actors.
Our hero (whose whole name is basically "cash is green") is more than willing to fake it to make it, and once he drinks the Kool-Aid of the Power Caller lifestyle, which comes with a hefty paycheck, he doesn't care that he is actually selling slave labor to global corporations. With a hip new apartment and a luxury car, and having saved his uncle's home with a fat wad of green, Cash shrugs off the Upstairs/Downstairs moral quandary when the phone room staff erupts into a full-scale work stoppage to protest low wages and lack of benefits. His "I'm with you in spirit, but this has nothing to do with me" attitude -- not to mention his increasing use of the "white voice" at all times -- drives a wedge between himself and the strikers, most importantly his best friend Salvador (Jermaine Fowler), and worse, his girlfriend Detroit, who is being pursued by Squeeze (John Yeun), the phone room's strike organizer. With Cash and other Power Callers crossing the picket lines with armed escorts every day, Detroit labels Cash a "morally emaciated" scab and bounces. One of the funnier moments of the film is when newly entitled Cassius arrives to work and engages in a rapidly escalating war of compliments with Salvador. It's absurdist humor at its best, when "I hope you have a great year, brother" and "You smell great, what are you wearing?" are challenges as heated and threatening as any game of The Dozens.
At this point, Sorry To Bother You makes a sharp turn from social satire straight into sci-fi, and it may be a hard leap for some in the audience to make. It's a film where the amusing eccentricities, quirks, and weirdness of the plot finally pile up so high that by the last 20 minutes, Freak Fatigue may set in. For a movie billed as a comedy, somehow the laughs are far and few between; certainly there are hilarious moments, such as the aforementioned compliment war, the Power Callers' elevator gags, and Cash's brief experience in the private room of a local club. There are also several deeply disturbing scenes, as when non-rapper Cash is forced to rap for a party of white folks and resorts to chanting the n-word; when Detroit holds a gallery opening and invites attendees to pelt her near-naked body with sheep's blood, cell phones and bullet casings as a piece of performance art; and several scenes of extreme violence involving a fictional TV reality show and confrontations between the police and striking workers. And then there is that certain ... scientific program.
The visual design and cinematography of the movie are stellar; the framing, explosion of colors, and set design are remarkable. A shot of Cash driving through the neighborhoods on his way to work and to pick up his girlfriend, as well as the club scenes, give us a true sense of the sights and sounds of Oakland. Detroit's candy-colored hair and message earrings, Cash's increasingly dapper suits, the high-five montage of Cash celebrating sales with his phone room supervisor, the crash landings into client's spaces, and the headshot of Cash in the phone room framed against the copyroom window, behind which two employees are confounded by a paper-spewing copier, are just a few of the dazzling visual setups. And the film earns high marks for its soundtrack, with some of the songs provided by director Riley's band.
Sorry To Bother You has to be seen to be believed. Do I encourage you to see it? Yes. Stanfield, with his stooped uncertain posture and expressive eyes, gives a great performance. There is a lot to unpack here about a number of issues. But I wouldn't take young children. It's more of a dystopian cautionary tale than anything else. As with most protagonists in the I-sold-my-soul-but-I-want-it-back plotline, Cassius regains his moral fiber, takes back his power, and goes all out to make things right. But even as a happy ending is dangled before us, full of love and sunshine, the last scenes take a darker twist.
* * * * *
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