50 Cent film attempts profundity, dies trying

The primary aim of any film that portrays a harsh life on the street is that its characters must engage in a life normally considered socially and morally reprehensible (usually drug dealing), simply because this is the only life they know, and the only life that can bring them what they desire. At first glance a film simply titled “Get Rich or Die Tryin’” would appear to understand this basic dynamic and, for a while, it does.

The movie is unrelenting in its scenes of violence and raw emotion, and the viewer truly believes in the struggle to lead a life of crime simply because it is the only choice available. But just as the film becomes truly powerful in this regard, it gives up the ship. As if to say, “Well, I’ve done my job,” the film coasts through its climax, and we are cheated out of a proper reality and end up with something too obviously influenced by Hollywood.

Of course, the whole film is based around the life of Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson, who grew up in the ghettos of New York, though here Jackson plays Marcus “Young Caesar” Grier, a thinly-veiled version of himself. His drug-dealing mother murdered early in his childhood, Grier “takes up the family trade” and starts dealing on street corners; his extreme youth leaves plenty of time to gather together thousands of dollars and loads of respect from his peers. Grier’s rise to power coincides with that of his superior, Mr. Majestic (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje), a violent and dangerous maniac willing to do anything to make his way to the top. Grier seems poised to join Majestic in that quest, but as his life becomes more and more dangerous, he becomes enticed by a better life: he falls in love with his childhood friend, Charlene (Joy Bryant), and eventually becomes a father. With so much ahead of him, Grier decides to pursue his lifelong dream to become a rapper... something that is bound to conflict with his former life.

50 Cent’s performance as Marcus is one of surprising quality. There is a stirring honesty about his often implacable expressions, usually denoted only by his expressive eyes and his smile, which simultaneously conveys enormous relief and continuing suspicion. Screenwriter Terence Winter should be commended for writing a well-customized script, which nicely summarizes Jackson’s life and doesn’t stretch his abilities beyond their breaking point. I don’t know if I would call it a star-making performance, considering that the man is essentially playing himself, but I was reminded of Art Garfunkel’s role in Nicolas Roeg’s brilliant film “Bad Timing”: it is fully apparent that the musically inclined man is no professional actor, but the performance is so completely tailored to the portrayer—based on who he is and what he stands for—that it is impossible to imagine (or want) anyone else in that role.

Unfortunately, about halfway through its brutally honest tale of desperation, the movie runs out of steam and starts falling back on some tired movie conventions: namely, its honesty gives way to something cheap and moralizing. Charlene’s presence becomes the overly simplistic, finger-wagging “drugs are bad” message that wiser movies of this caliber avoid. And, once Marcus is nearly mortally wounded, he decides to re-gather his life at a beach retreat, which inexplicably looks and feels like similar scenes from “Rocky III.” (I kept waiting for inspirational 1980s montage music to pop in.) Simultaneously, Majestic subtly transforms from a dangerous criminal into a James Bond villain in speech and action, complete with dastardly weapons hidden in innocuous objects; fine for James Bond, but sorely out of place for something purporting to be so realistic.

As far as serious biopics about rises and falls in the drug business go, Brian De Palma’s “Scarface” continues to trump all comers; that film challenged its audience by presenting a rich, desirable life through cocaine but finished with an unceremonious slap across the face with the realities of its situation. “Get Rich or Die Tryin’’” was certainly headed for that vaunted ground by starting off cruelly and, at first, appearing as unforgiving as its obvious mob-movie inspirations. But when the movie becomes a reductive affair of good versus evil and heroes versus villains, it loses a lot of its heart and never quite recovers. At its end, I believed 50 Cent’s real life struggle to the top; his fictional struggle, not so much.