BIGGIE & TUPAC Rating: Director: Nick Broomfield Producer: Michele d'Acosta Director of Photography: Joan Churchill Visit the IMDB page for full cast and crew

Review by: Warren Curry
6/24/02

If you're familiar with the previous output of documentary filmmaker Nick Broomfield (Kurt & Courtney, Heidi Fleiss: Hollywood Madam, Aileen Wuornos: The Selling of a Serial Killer), then you're undoubtedly aware that his films possess a train wreck-like entertainment quality. Broomfield's docs tap into our most prurient interests, and if you don't mind a heavy tabloid television-esque sensibility fused with your documentary filmmaking, then you'll most likely find his body of work to be curiously fascinating. His latest effort, Biggie & Tupac, ranks as probably his most entertaining film to date. Despite the fact that the shamelessly self-important Broomfield can't help but want to share the spotlight with his subjects, one has to give the filmmaker credit for being brave enough to tackle a topic this explosive.

You needn't be a hip-hop music fan to be familiar with the broad strokes of the Biggie & Tupac saga, but a quick recap goes like this: In September of 1996, rap music star/actor Tupac Shakur was shot and died a few days later in a Las Vegas hospital. There were plenty of suspects, but no arrests were ever made in connection with the crime. Six months later in Los Angeles, Biggie Smalls a.k.a. Notorious B.I.G. a.k.a. Christopher Wallace, was shot and killed in a drive-by incident while he was leaving the Soul Train Music Awards. Once friends, Biggie and Tupac became outspoken enemies, largely due to the genesis of the rap music East Coast/West Coast rivalry. Tupac aligned himself with Suge Knight, the imposing head of the West Coast's premiere rap label Death Row Records. Biggie, a native of Brooklyn, found his allegiance with Sean "Puff Daddy" Combs and his equally powerful East Coast label Bad Boy Records.

So, who is responsible for the deaths of two of urban music's biggest stars? Through the many interviews Broomfield conducts, we are presented with a few possible culprits. Many of the people Broomfield chats with are surprisingly open and, with a bit of prodding, actually name names. Broomfield does a serviceable job of establishing the history that led to the heated dislike between the two coasts via television and behind-the-scenes footage (although his voice over narration becomes grating every now and then).

As for the interviews, Broomfield's chats with Biggie's mother, Voletta Wallace (who was instrumental in gaining the director access to some of Biggie's confidants), resonate most deeply, as her testimony is free of any sort of grandstanding. She comes across as a mother who is sincerely confused by the events that led to the death of her son and wants to know why more isn't being done to find answers (she has filed a wrongful death lawsuit against the LAPD). An ex-police officer, Russell Poole, is also given vast amounts of screen time to author his theories, and some of the dirt that is exposed about the LAPD is pretty surprising, even in light of the department's well-earned reputation for corruption.

When Broomfield is able to finally interview the cigar-puffing Suge Knight in a Northern California prison (where he was doing time for an assault related charge; he has recently been released), it seems the film is going to reach an apex, until we discover that Knight only wants to use the film as a forum to promote his message of self-reformation to "the kids." This message loses just a tiny bit of credibility when we're shown a clip of the Death Row Records website, which contains a banner that reads something to the effect of "All Dogs Beware: Suge's coming home," which is then accompanied by the sound of a dog getting shot (a statement presumably directed at Knight's former friend turned adversary, Snoop Dog, who claims that Suge has threatened his life).

Finally, one can't discuss a Broomfield documentary without touching upon the great lengths the director goes to in order to make a spectacle of himself. He appears in quite a bit of the film, and his deadpan commentary is often comical (to his credit, I think it's intended). The filmmaker refuses to exercise any discipline and it's not difficult to see why many documentary purists don't take Broomfield seriously.

Whether or not you are interested in Biggie or Tupac, rap music or the culture that surrounds it, this film is undeniably involving. In some respects, it does satisfy the lowest common denominator, but I'll freely admit to being glued to every frame.

(A Roxie Releasing release. Opens on September 27 in New York, Los Angeles, Washington D.C., Baltimore and Philadelphia. Expands to more cities at later dates.)

Talk about this here film in the ever-popular message boards.

Home

More Reviews

Articles

IndieSpeak