Spotlight

Spotlight Date: 23-March-03
Spoiler Rating: High

Barbershop (2002)

It might be unusual to mix media like that, but in this case it seems to fit: "Barbershop" sometimes feels like it belongs on the boob tube, but it packs enough punch to justify its debut on the silver screen. Set in a poor quarter of Chicago, the movie tells the story of a third-generation barbershop owner named Calvin (Ice Cube) and the diverse and loquacious band of friends and neighbors who spend their days working or hanging out in his shop, dreaming of a better life. Working for Calvin are a know-it-all college boy (Sean Patrick Thomas), an ex-felon trying to make good (Michael Ealy), a young woman with boyfriend trouble (Eve), a sensitive geek from Africa (Leonard Earl Howze), a crusty old coot with opinions on everything (Cedric the Entertainer), and the lone white guy with a hip hop lifestyle (Troy Garity). Along with their regular customers, this crew comes together every day to chat, laugh, and argue about everything from Rosa Parks to the difference between a woman with a big ass and a big-ass woman. Either because of the dialogue, or the actors, or the set (or all three), a genuine feeling of community and camaraderie blooms in Calvin's barbershop and pervades the movie as a whole.

although it might have been enjoyable just to watch the goings-on in the shop, a movie generally needs some tension, and in this case it comes when Calvin is pressured by debt and impending fatherhood to sell the shop to a sleazebag named Lester (Keith David) (whose overdone sleaziness is one of the TV-ish aspects of the film). Calvin immediately begins to regret this move when he discovers that Lester plans to use the spot for a peep show, and his regret continues to grow as he realizes how important the barbershop is to the neighborhood — as a community center, a safe haven, a support group, a means of attending to one's appearance (and thus one's dignity), and a way of keeping in touch with tradition. although running the shop means giving up his many make-it-big schemes (a succession of which his wife has patiently waited out), Calvin ends up gaining the knowledge, in the best Capraesque way, of unrecognized riches already in his possession. He thus sets out to return the money Lester has given him and get the barbershop back (which isn't as easy as it sounds, but plays out a little too easily to be fully credible).

Alongside and amongst "Barbershop"'s more touching and serious storylines is a good bit of comedy, largely deriving from a somewhat boring plot in which two doofuses (Anthony Anderson and Lahmard Tate) steal an ATM and attempt to find both a suitable location and the means to open it. This is where the film really dips into the B-movie or television level, but it never quite stays there; just when you think it's permanently sinking, there's a genuinely funny line or scene that keeps it afloat (as when one doofus attempts to spit on a fire he has inadvertently started). Similarly, a few puerile digressions (e.g., not one but two prolonged close-ups of women's tight-jeaned buttocks) can't detract from the cleverly amusing touches throughout the film (e.g., a street hustler whom Calvin keeps shooing out of the shop).

Because of its frequent moments of slapstick and ribaldry, "Barbershop" will probably go down as a comedy or even, due its cast and setting, a "black comedy." But like "Big Night" (which is a better movie, mind you), "Barbershop" uses the ethnicity of its characters to add specificity and flavor to what is essentially a sweet, gentle story about an average Joe trying to make good and reevaluating his definition of success. It doesn't deserve awards for spectacular moviemaking, but it sure earns points for being a very watchable, mostly thoughtful and well intentioned tale. Let's just hope the sequel, being rushed to screens this year, doesn't diminish the pleasant memory of the warmth and humor of Calvin's barbershop.

Copyright © 2003 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.