It's hard out there for a pimp.
That's the long and short of Hustle & Flow, the story of a pot-sellin', ho-managin' thug who just so happens to dream of becoming a full-time rapper. Told with the same level of street-level detail as the best hip-hop, Hustle & Flow is a rare thing indeed: A film about rap that'd even please a room full of open-minded Michael Bolton fans.
Terrence Howard is DJay, a small-time hustler looking for bigger and better things. Inspired by the success of his fellow Memphis native Skinny Black, DJay recruits a few of his friends to lay down some tracks and hopefully pass them off to Skinny. But in order to flow, one must hustle, and Howard spends most of the movie doing everything he can to raise the money and gather the inspiration to spit hot fire. You ever hear about the struggle? DJay is the struggle, personified.
Howard is spot-on as DJay; if you never thought you'd find yourself rooting for a drug-dealing flesh-peddler, Howard's brooding turns at both hustling and flowing will quickly change your mind, yet he never once plays the too-obvious "sensitive thug" card. His "business associates" work some magic, too; as Nola the hooker, Taryn Manning finally gets the role she was born to play, and Taraji Henson deserves a lot more screen time as the pregnant Shug. DJ Qualls does an all right job as the white kid who just happens to play keyboards, and Anthony Anderson manages not to ruin any of the scenes he's in with his trademark buffoonery. They've assembled a great cast for Hustle & Flow, but this script (written by the film's director, relative-unknown-no-more Craig Brewer) seems almost too good to mess up.
The real surprise here, though, isn't Howard; he's been this good in everything he's ever been in, even Glitter. Hustle's real standout is Ludacris, parodying himself and every other up-from-the-hood rapper of the last few years as Skinny Black. A quick glimpse of him on a television, standing in the woods with a shotgun and looking for haters, is just about all the comic relief the fairly somber Hustle needs. And the film's climactic scene, involving DJay's much-anticipated meeting with Skinny Black, is all the better because of him.
Hustle is also bolstered by some beautifully hazy cinematography (mud-caked Memphis never looked so inviting), and an overriding reverence to the grit and authenticity of hip-hop. Rap music's been an awfully large part of American culture for the last 20 years, and it's nice to see it getting the respect it deserves in film. But this is not just a movie for fans of two turntables and a microphone; the humanity at the core of each of Hustle's characters will affect anyone who happens to buy a ticket. And, for a slow-paced, actor-driven, low-budget movie about a lovable pimp, Hustle & Flow manages to be just as entertaining as any of this summer's big blockbusters.
Pimping ain't easy, but Hustle & Flow makes it look effortless.
