Wednesday, August 30, 2017

'Love Jones,' 20 Years, 5 Months Later, A Motion Still Tumbled in Earth

Love Jones DVD cover.
“This here, right now, at this very moment is all that matters to me. I love you and that’s urgent like a mother….”
How can a sis not swoon over grandiose words spoken by teenage crush, Larenz Tate, playing this beatnik brother poet, Darius Lovehall? Trust and believe that is the hardest notion of all, fighting against problematic perceptions of the young black Chicagoan male. Darius is intelligent, eclectic, and charming, the laidback, ear pierced black man whose tiny apartment makes room for an impressive library, listens to the rustic scratchy sounds vintage records make, and understands distinct difference between sadness and melancholy.

Twenty years ago, I wasn’t quite old enough to see Love Jones in theaters, but saw it much, much later. Recently, I rewatched the Sundance Film Festival Audience Prize Winner, hooked to the sweetness of black artists falling in love with each other and their respective practices.

Nina (Nia Long) and Darius (Larenz Tate) giving each other the Kool-Aid smile.
The queen bee eating up spoonfuls of Darius's freestyle scat is gorgeous, talented, fiercely ambitious Nina Mosley. With her crop top blouses (including that amazing outfit at the end), high-waisted denim jeans, and dark lipstick, she defined fashion. An up and coming photographer whose vignette portraits have a Gordon Parks meets James Van Der Vee in the 90s kind of vibe, Nina uses vintage cameras, taking her passion onto the streets, capturing mostly people in love. Big shot magazine editors don't like her style. A man calls her "unpolished" without really defining his criticism. This rejection adds stress to a woman who left her selfish fiance.

Darius and Nina first meet at The Sanctuary, a hip underground nightclub for bohemian sisters and brothers who collectively snap their fingers to open mic visionaries. Darius is part of a black bohemian posse of knowledgeable sophisticates-- Afrocentric vibing Sheila, humble married Savon, cool Eddie, and player Hollywood. The sparks fly immediately, even after a minor fumble at the bar, but Darius walks up to the mic and spills out a raw, sexy poem, Brother to the Night, (A Blues For Nina). Nina's embarrassment is genuine. She doesn't like its sexual components, but she is a tiny bit flattered, putting on a sisterly blush. They meet again and stubborn Darius continues to woe her with sweet, explicit music and dance.

I love that after Nina recites Sonia Sanchez's poetry, Darius believes that Nina will come up with words of her own. He knows it. As well as he knows she is skilled with the camera, he knows that she has other skills up her sleeve, that she too is a poet at heart.

Now growing up, in regards to film watching, I had been mostly exposed to white romances-- white people falling in love, white faces kissing, white bodies thrusting together, the whole nine yards. Hell, my entire middle school sex education was an instructive white people "doing it" cartoon. To see Darius and Nina becoming deeper than two passing strangers: dancing at a reggae spot, passionately making out at her doorstep, dissolving into full fledged intimacy in a beautifully compiled erotic montage. This epic thing of wonder charged with poetic moments of clarity utterly shook and dismantled my whitewashed education. I thought, damn, is this what Hollywood is afraid of? That black people can be fully realized, three dimensional beings that can love the living life out of each other? That they can be hot, sexy, and set the screen on fire without stereotypical exaggeration?

Nina (Nia Long) working with the professional camera.
Darius and Nina have their ups and downs. At the same time, so does the married Savon. Trust is the enemy. Everybody makes mistakes and smashes that needed relationship essential. I understand that Nina wanted to see if she would miss something with Marvin, but his ill-fitting childish behavior obviously wasn't ever going to change. Plus, he would have smothered Nina's independence. Meanwhile, Darius finds Lisa, a new squeeze to warm his bed, but she incites no spark of inspiration. Nina returns to Chicago and is immediately broken-hearted over seeing Darius and Lisa. She turns to Hollywood (eerily similar to Marvin) for affection and fair play turnabout. Savon is lonely after his wife leaves with their son, bringing questionable companions to the posse get togethers. He has a valid outlook on love and relationships, ultimately stating that it's the staying in love that is the most challenging hardship. It's tough seeing his struggle in the marriage. Troubles do not end after "I do." And that's real.

Josie (Lisa Nicole Carson) and Nina (Nia Long).

Ava DuVernay said, “I think that women definitely have a special bond as friends that is hard to describe to men, and we don't often see that portrayed narratively."

That is sort of expressed greatly here. With their amazing girlfriend chemistry, Nina and Josie's onscreen conversations mostly revolve around men and their relationships with them. Apparently, Josie has an active sex life, but her purpose (in this film) is to live vicariously through Nina. However, the taxi cab scene is hilariously memorable, a real game changer in how women discuss male anatomy. When Nina explains that Darius speaks to her down there, it was so much more hysterical than any fake deli orgasm. This was straight fire. Though the male taxi driver overhears and is thoroughly amused, carnal sharing is for the benefit of sisterhood spillage, not for him.

Still, it is a huge missed opportunity to not have the girls celebrating Nina scoring a break (after months of being dismissed) with Vibe Magazine. Would have loved to see these women toasting to that milestone. I appreciated her phone call to Darius and the crushing train scene afterward, but I needed a Nina/Josie girl party. Plus, what the heck did Josie do for a living anyway? She wasn't exactly fleshed out. Also, it is such wasted potential that none of the fine brothers of the posse wanted to engage with her. For example, Hollywood has always wanted Nina-- friend's girl or not. Eddie is a closed book, great deep voice, the host of the soirées, but without a partner. He and Josie would have hit it off if the chance had been granted. 

On the other hand, Sheila is an amazing, sensational independent woman. She works at Last of the Old Time Record Stores with giant posters of Janet Jackson's Design of a Decade, Eric Clapton's From the Cradle, and funky posters on the front door. She spoke her mind and put characters like Hollywood and Savon in their place if they stepped off. Her side eye expressions put everyone on notice.

Darius and Nina looking like a "One in a Million" couple on the motorcycle.
The film is put together brilliantly, each piece playing its part to utmost perfection-- the acting, the script, the cinematography, the music. From Lauryn Hill’s guitar strumming serenade “The Sweetest Thing” to spoken word sensuality of Meshell Ndegeocello and Mark Miller’s “Rush Over,” the music selection is ridiculously slick, keeping interest flowing from Darius's sexy ode to Nina to Nina's "virgin" popping at Darius in front of the mic. The in between is a lacy groove set of Maxwell, Cassandra Jones, and Duke Ellington designed to never let the mood shift out of a lover's mindset.
Earlier this year, Love Jones received the ABFF (African Black Film Festival) honor for being the Ultimate Black Love Classic.  Omari Hardwick introduced the sweet award to the cast: Bernadette Clarke (Sheila), Theodore WItcher (writer/director), Lisa Nicole Carson (Josie), Larenz Tate (Darius), Leonard Roberts (Eddie), Nia Long (Nina), and Isaiah Washington (Savon).  Bill Bellamy (Hollywood) wasn't present, but they shouted him out. 
Nominated for three Image Awards and four Acapulco Film Festival Awards (winning for Best soundtrack), Love Jones was way above the time of its 1997 release date. Cumulative box office total says nothing about the kind of impact this film made on so many people. The story of Darius and Nina and their surrounding friends stands on the paramount of black romance, standing atop a pedestal so grand that few others can topple its worthy place in nostalgia.

Darius and Nina reuniting in the pouring Chicago rain! 
The Love Jones ending is a special kind of gold that all sisters appreciate. When a grown woman runs out in the pouring rain, risking the world (yes, getting a nice straight press/relaxer wet), that is a sign of true dedication, a willingness to sacrifice everything in the name of love.


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