Big Picture Big Sound

Biggie Stardust

"Notorious", thank goodness, is not a Hollywood remake of the 1946 Cary Grant-Ingrid Bergman Hitchcock classic. In fact, it may be the farthest thing from it: a low-budget dramatization of the tragically short life-story of Christopher Wallace (aka The Notorious B.I.G., aka Biggie Smalls). It also may be the first truly good biopic in the Hip Hop genre (sorry, "8 Mile"). With real firepower behind it (the Executive Producer is Sean "Puffy" Combs, with Biggie's mother, Voletta Wallace, as one of the producers), the filmmakers are able to tap into a considerable catalog of material, so the film's soundtrack is chockfull of the artist's hits. Thankfully, even with the oversight of close friends and relatives, the film avoids deifying the man (he's seen selling crack to a pregnant woman), and only rarely dips into sentimentality.

Though it concentrates only on Mr. Wallace's short life, the script - by Reggie Rock Bythewood and Cheo Hodari Coker - struggles to cover the complete breadth of its subject, so intense were these years. Beginning with Biggie small (played in too few scenes by Mr. Wallace's own charming son and namesake), the film has some fun watching "Chrissy Pooh" and his mom (Angela Bassett) navigating the mean streets of Brooklyn. Voletta never lets her son leave the stoop, so like any child under scrutiny Chrissy Pooh learns to hide his comings-and-goings well. Eventually this leads to lucrative drug dealing, a child out of wedlock, a stint behind bars and a tearful run in with mom. All by the age of 17.

After that, the film wastes no time taking Biggie out from behind bars and putting him behind the mic. The film doesn't attempt to explain where his lyrics come from - they appear to emerge fully-formed from his head. Biggie records a mixtape which leads to the milestone meeting with then-struggling producer Sean "Puffy" Combs. From there, it's the fairly standard biopic trajectory, complete with (to paraphrase the man) more women, more children, more money and more problems. And why shouldn't a Hip Hop biopic fall into the same trap as any other?  As a result, the film drags to a clumsy conclusion that attempts to put a bow on what should have been left as jarringly sudden and unresolved as it was in reality.

Where director George Tillman Jr. ("Soul Food") may show slight inexperience in his directorial choices (the handheld is a bit overdone), he has a shrewd gift for casting. Filled with big personalities (Puffy, Tupac, Lil' Kim, not to mention Voletta herself), "Notorious" could've been an exercise in playing dress-up. But Mr. Tillman's cast members each attempt to find the humanity behind the media façade of the characters. As Puffy, Derek Luke has little of the playboy mannerisms we know of the man today, but he brings a welcome naiveté to the role - and he nails Puffy's inimitable early 90s dancing. As Tupac, Anthony Mackie fares less well. He's given precious little screentime to create a man who deserves a biopic of his own, and he's ill-served by an overused voice-over that drowns out what could have been choice relationship-building moments. He does manage, briefly, to portray some of the spark and swagger that made Mr. Shakur such a polarizing character.

For some reason, the film stops short of truly dissecting the unfortunate rivalry between these two rap greats. While it does accurately portray how the media played a key role in the proportion of the duel, it gives little time to the "beef" itself, perhaps wisely avoiding throwing more gas on the still-smoldering fire.

As for the women in Biggie's life, they're represented well in the film. Angela Bassett gives a typically fine, if less than revelatory, performance as Voletta Wallace, playing her familiar strong female role while still allowing glimmers of fragility to show through. Newcomer Naturi Naughton is playfully feisty as Lil' Kim, and Antonique Smith is a formidable adversary as Biggie's wife Faith Evans. For her part, Julia Pace Mitchell gives a small, dignified performance as the mother of Biggie's first child.

The real revelation, though, is Jamal Woolard. Faced with the unenviable challenge of portraying one of the most iconic characters in music, the young actor shows remarkable ease on screen. The filmmakers play a sly game of gradually transforming Mr. Woolard as he portrays Biggie at 17 until his death at 24. At first, the actor doesn't resemble the rapper we remember. But by the end of the film the resemblance is considerable. Likewise, Mr. Woolard's vocal performance matures throughout the film. He may not have the practiced gravitas of the Biggie baritone we know and love, but he makes a good placeholder.

It may be important to give some context to this review. In terms of Notorious B.I.G history, I know some but not a lot. Of his music, I'm a fan. Those who don't know him and don't like his music may not care for the film. But I don't see why it should matter. His talent was remarkable. His life, too short. And as he showed again and again in his lyrics: his story is worth telling.