There nothing that spikes the interest more than a true story retold. Especially if the story is about crime and its consequences.
Such is the tale of a recent movie, American Gangster. Frank Lucas started off as a prankster and small time crook in his South Carolina town, and eventually ran off to 1960s New York to avoid the law and start afresh. There, he was met by the reigning crime boss and groomed to be his successor.
Randall Scott and screen writer Steven Zallian have made a compelling film, with a clichéd but well-narrated story of the good cop/bad gangster variety. The film parallels the lives of drug lord Frank Lucas (played by Denzel Washington) and rooky cop Richie Roberts (Russell Crowe) without them ever meeting until the very end. Roberts is a New Jersey cop on the brink of unemployment, with a wife who has left him with a date in divorce court. Yet, he wont take bribes because “it is the right thing to do.” Frank Lucas has bought himself a mansion with his drug money, which also sustains an adoring church-attending mother, a clan of subordinate brothers and a beauty queen for a wife and says “it’s all about the family.” Both have principles, or at least work ethics.
Hollywood glamorizes and sanitizes crime bosses. The Godfather is a staunch family man passing on the torch, and Bugsy Siegel mingled easily with film stars and celebrities. American Gangster is no different, and in fact starts this eulogy with the title, as though the “American” would elevate the stature of gangsters. Scott still tries to realistically portray the grimy underbelly of the Harlem drug world, where transactions take place in the awful towers of the projects. But Lucas and the rest of the story charm us throughout the film.
And Lucas continues to do so to this day. His charisma is now directed at the rap and hip hop groups of the MTV and BET generation. Jay-Z, the famed rapper who grew up in the world of street drugs and deals that came after Lucas’s glory days, and who seems to stick to Lucas as a surrogate son, has written a corresponding music to the movie which he also calls American Gangster. “im more Frank Lucas than Ludacris” he writes in “No Hook”, of his convoluted idol and father-figure. And, in his own way, 37 year-old Jay-Z, born Shawn Corey, is passing on his torch. “America meet the gangsta Shawn Corey/ Hey, young world, wanna hear a story?” he says to the vulnerable young that listen to his music.
Lucas is now an old ex-convict without his millions. But it’s Jay- Z who’s of age to influence the young world of Lucas’s sons. Time will tell if Jay-Z continues to rap “This is black super hero music right here baby/American Gangsta.” Or if he modifies his tune and changes direction. An extraordinary force may be required to drag Lucas’s fatherless offspring from the shadows of his appeal, and all the other magnets that pull Jay-Z and his pack into this psychological lure. Lucas became a father who couldn’t quite expiate his sins, and his metaphorical sons are further getting tricked by the allure of his projections on Hollywood screens and music videos. Can Jay-Z and his gang simply walk away, something which Lucas couldn’t do?
It has been more than three decades since Lucas’s mayhem descended on us, and it doesn’t appear to dissipate any time soon. Scott did a disservice in releasing his movie so early, if at all. Black gangsters may have now entered the Hollywood guilds of the original American gangster films, yet drug deaths and homicides are still part of their every day reality. The Italian mafia has fizzled out, and even The Godfather can now be seen through the rosy lens of nostalgia. But Frank Lucas has the danger of becoming a living legend to emulate. Still, since the damage is done, this may be the one last chance for Lucas to battle his demons. In fact, Lucas is tackling two events at once on a country-wide tour. One to promote American Gangster, and the other to send a message to black youth to not follow his example from the movie. A pretty mean feat. But then, I’m sure he’s up to it.