‘Brown Sugar,’ Full of Potential, Bittersweet And Sour

 

Brown Sugar film poster.

Recently rewatched Rick Fumiymao’s Brown Sugar and must note that several featured hip hop artists talking about falling in love with the genre are problematic towards women— Russell Simmons, Talib Kweli. Also, no real-life women pioneers spoke— MC Lyte, Roxanne Shante, Da Brat (seeing as this seemed mostly Def Jam affiliated), etc. Perhaps they thought having Queen Latifah co-star as divorcee Francine in the film was enough. 

Probably would have made for an excellent story if Francine (Queen Latifah) was an underground MC that Syd (Sanaa Lathan) interviewed for a future Vibe story. DP: Jeff Barnett and Enrique Chediak. 

They reserved the hip hop love for Syd Shaw—Francine’s cousin.  

Unlike Love & Basketball which also features the “childhood friends to lovers” trope (also starring Sanaa Lathan), Brown Sugar does not have the violent scene between Black boys and Black girls. Little Syd bonds with Dre Ellis over watching Slick Rick rap battle on the playground, their heads bobbing together in a rhythm. Years later, Syd has become a hip hop journalist sensation, a Columbia University grad; pitching for L. A. Times and obtaining a sweet gig at Vibe Magazine. Whereas Dre has sold his soul as an A&R executive at a corny record label more interested in manufacturing gold and platinum hits than finding artists with the pure authentic sound Dre searches for. The best thing about Dre is that he reads and saves Syd’s writings. He respects her talent and shows pride in her success; harboring no ill will, no jealousy— on that particular front. 

Dre (Taye Diggs) proposes to Reese— a woman he has known for only a few months. DP: Jeff Barnett and Enrique Chediak.

Optically, Brown Sugar is no Love Jones either. There are no sistahs proudly wearing locs and afros, no vibe that correlates with the chords of D’Angelo’s 1995 track and album sharing the film title. At a Simmons party, the man himself enters with the statuesque Kimora Lee Simmons surrounded by lighter complexion women. The Black men, however, are the ones allowed to arrive in all shades including Dre who introduces Reese— his thin, bright eyed lawyer-girlfriend to Syd. Scientifically, brown sugar is processed by adding molasses to sugar— not to compare Black people to food, but towards Dre’s philosophy that a brown sugar woman is someone respectable with the whole complete package and other type (the women called derogatory names in the hip hop lyrics) are still good for one thing only. 

Brown Sugar’s other downside unfortunately rests on Dre’s shoulders. Before his big wedding day to an almost complete stranger, he visits Syd (who ironically opens her door wearing a towel and neglects to don a robe) and unleashes his nervous uncertainty. Syd comforts him with a hug and a passionate kiss. Thus, this set up trying to say that men and women can be friends even when one friend is barely dressed fails. Dre married anyway, but would later reference this scene as the moment he realizes that he loved Syd more than a platonic buddy. 

Reese was just a woman invested in the wrong man at the wrong time. DP: Jeff Barnett and Enrique Chediak.

Reese would eventually become the woman we feel most sorry for. She married a man who cheated on her before her wedding day— a man who likely thought about Syd the entire time he feigned loving Reese. Dre cannot tell Reese that he quit his job first, let alone other secrets that he tells to Syd, especially regarding their marriage. Dre’s emotional connection to Syd would always be coming between Dre and Reese, something that should have been better established. Then again, Dre and Reese knew little about each other despite Reese kindly inviting Syd to her wedding shower as a way of getting closer to her man’s BFF. That backfired quickly once Syd witnessed all the flirtatious men surrounding a flattered Reese— and Syd was quick to expose that to Dre. This showcases that Syd can lift a man up when he’s down, but when times get tough Reese is weighing her next options. 

The slightly narcissistic Kelby promises to read all of Syd’s past and current articles. DP: Jeff Barnett and Enrique Chediak.

Syd, a smart, educated writer working on her first book, finds a date outside of her “face massager,” kicking it off well with basketball player Kelby Dawson. He finesses her quite lavishly with prepared dinners and flowers galore, using his wealth to woo her like a Queen. Perhaps no man has ever treated Syd in such a way including the subjects of her articles, let alone Dre. Yet, Syd always finds the time to save Dre— a man who did not save money to start his record label before abruptly quitting his job. You cannot fault a man for leading his life with dignity and purpose, but he must bear responsibility for being a weak life planner— in career and marriage— both of which affects Syd. She lends Dre money, listens to his growing jealousy of Kelby, and scouts alongside Dre to hear the rapper named Cav— a cab driver by day, a performer at night. In the meantime, Syd and Dre are becoming closer once more, leading to life-altering late night confessions that cause them both to put their desires above everything else. 

Sadly, Syd cheats on Kelby with a six-minute Dre (who is not even divorced from Reese yet). DP: Jeff Barnett and Enrique Chediak.

Before Love Actually, Dre wrote on a cue card asking Syd to date him at the radio station via elementary school style. Is it a creative nod to their childhood together or a symbolism of future struggle love? DP: Jeff Barnett and Enrique Chediak. 

So while Syd and Dre’s romance is bonafide messy, Francine is wasted for sexual innuendo and soundboard— that typical sidekick stereotype. The underdeveloped relationship between Francine and Cav deserved more attention and care— these two characters were the real scene stealers too. At a runtime of an hour and forty-nine minutes, five-to ten minutes of extra dialogue, a date, a dance, a unique moment for them would have sufficed. 

Francine asks the awkward stumbling Cav out. DP: Jeff Barnett and Enrique Chediak.  

Dre and Syd may be kissing away in Angie Martinez’s Hot 97 radio station, but it’s what’s blossoming in the background leaving room to be desired. DP: Jeff Barnett and Enrique Chediak. 

Overall, the Brown Sugar soundtrack is the film’s real treat— of course, skip the problematic musicians though.