The fun of time travel movies -- beyond the conundrum surrounding all of the "what if" parameters -- is that they often mix several period cultures and styles into one film (think of the first "Back to the Future" installment where people mistake Marty's sleeveless winter jacket -- which was all the rage back in the mid '80s -- for a life preserver and his designer underwear for a name label).
Of course, if filmmakers want to achieve a similar effect but don't have the desire and/or budget to make a sci-fi film, they can just go ahead, smash two distinct cultures together, and see what comes out of the mix. Baz Luhrmann did just that back in 2001 with "Moulin Rouge!" and it's likely its critical and moderate box office success paved the way for the next such film, "Idlewild."
Rather than re-imagining and/or having the characters sing contemporary songs in 1899 Paris, this picture -- that's reportedly been sitting on the shelves for a few years for unspecified reasons -- takes the world of hip-hop and slathers it over and into a Depression era, Georgia speakeasy. The result is a visually arresting mess that occasionally threatens to capture the same sort of magic that eventually worked its way out of the trappings in Luhrmann's film, but never quite manages to work.
It's not so much the hip-hop and period jazz club mix that undermines the effort -- although the music is decidedly lackluster given the potential and the previous output of his real life musical stars -- but rather the incredibly uneven direction and reliance on goofy gimmicks that similarly tried their darnedest to derail "Rouge." But what was just annoying in that film (the sped-up film footage, exaggerated expressions and sound effects) becomes disastrously distracting here.
A running gag is an emblem of a rooster on a flask moving about on it and speaking to its owner who just so happens to go by the name of that barnyard critter. I understand it's supposed to be something along the lines of his subconscious (or just the booze) nagging him, but it stands out like a sore thumb, just like notes on sheet music that come to life like animated stick figures, images on posters that suddenly move, singing cuckoo clock birds, and so on.
I'm not sure why music video veteran turned first-time filmmaker Bryan Barber -- who also wrote the script so there's no one else to blame -- decided to include such goofy material, but it does absolutely nothing positive for the picture. Which is too bad since he starts off the film with fun visuals featuring period style, black and white photos to introduce the characters. I'm not sure where I've seen the effect before -- where certain parts of the shots (usually single characters) start to expand as if suddenly radiated or move in just one frame segments -- but it's quite effective in establishing them, their personas and a certain infectious aura that seems to promise a highly entertaining time is about to be had.
Unfortunately, Barber can't maintain that, especially when the main storyline finally kicks in once the introductions are done. The plot -- lifted from most any urban or 'hood drama -- concerns two lifelong friends, one the quiet and tortured but talented soul and the other the gregarious and outspoken type who has nothing but trouble written in his tealeaves. Of course, the reason most people will likely seek out this picture is that the two performers who make up the hip-hop duo OutKast -- André Benjamin and Antwan A. Patton -- play those friends who, in the most unlikely coincidence, are also in the music biz.
Benjamin creates the more interesting of the two characters, even if most of his story is lifted from the likes of "Purple Rain" (the tortured piano player with the emotionally distant but controlling father who gets a creative boost when a pretty singer -- a vibrant Paula Patton -- enters his life, etc.). Possibly indicative or just playing with the rumors of the duo's pending breakup, he and Patton don't actually appear in that many scenes together as the latter's character is stuck in the second story with the gangster played by Terrence Howard who's tightening the screws on him.
Of course, the film's money moments are supposed to be those musical numbers, and Barber's music video background certainly helps in making them about as lively as possible. Rather than stick with one combo period look, however, they -- like the rest of the film -- are a hodgepodge of visual styles (sometimes a Gap TV commercial, at others a straightforward Cab Calloway number, etc.) that rob the film of some much-needed consistency. Moreover, as mentioned before, the hip-hop meets period jazz music just isn't as good as one would expect, resulting in a bunch of instantly forgettable ditties.
Something of a mix between "The Cotton Club," "Moulin Rouge!" and any hip-hop music video, the film earns a few points for at least trying something different, but its eclectic elements and recycled storylines don't gel into anything resembling a satisfying whole. Highly imaginative, but incredibly and distractingly uneven, "Idlewild" rates as a 3.5 out of 10.
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