Conserva tive Radical

-Lil’ Wayne, extolling the virtues of ‘syrup’, from “The Carter”, the Sundance Award winning documentary produced by QDIII. I was lucky to catch this brilliant, flawed documentary earlier this week at a screening, which was followed by a Q&A with Mr. Jones (FN1).

The movie follows Wayne on the road in the months before the release of the Carter 3, his most recent album, and ends shortly after it proves to be a monumental success. During a period when some of his contemporaries are struggling to combat irrelevancy and piracy, Wayne is definitely one of the few (along with Jay-Z, 50 and Kanye) who’ve figured out how to thrive. During the Q&A, Jones told the audience that one of the reasons that he pursued documentary film was to expose the general public to the artistic brilliance of hip-hop, and this film is an embodiment of that admirable, yet troubling goal. The admiration that the filmmaker has for the artist is apparent from the first scene, and combined with QD3’s aims, one can be forgiven for expecting a hagiography.Thankfully, that’s not the case. Adam Bala Lough (the director) avoids what could have been the easy path –create a typical ‘rise and fall of the artist’ narrative, and opts to simply observe Wayne in his natural environment. He even manages to void the artificial spontanaiety that often results from observational forms of documentary by dropping in hints that remind you that the camera is there - we see Wayne address the camera directly, and the viewer is constantly reminded that the cameras are only there at Wayne’s pleasure. Everyone portrayed in the film is, from his nameless entourage, to his manager, his daughter, hell, even to Baby (his ‘father’/mentor/’boss’) is expendable. Because if there is one message that one walks away from this movie with, it’s this - Wayne doesn’t need us. It’s funny,because even though the fly on the wall approach is intended to create a sense of intimacy, it creates the opposite. With all that, here are some things that we do learn about him from this documentary:

(1) Wayne is an addict.

The movie begins with the humorous revelation that Wayne enjoys marijuana. Throughout the rest of the movie, we are treated to a number of Wayne with a blunt scenes, and a lot of frank discussion about drug addiction and substance use. Wayne’s troubling abuse of “syrup” (a concotion made of soda and cough syrup (that contains codeine and promethazine) that contributed to the deaths of DJ Screw and Pimp C (of UGK)) is directly addressed a number of times, most poignantly by his childhood friend and manager Cortez Bryant. There are very few scenes of the movie that don’t feature Wayne and a Styrofoam cup, and we are treated to his preparation of the drink several times. The Wayne/syrup controversy is well-known in the rap community, but there’s a real difference between knowing and witnessing. (FN2) What’s particularly interesting is seeing drugs as subtext, as the element that informs and subverts the film – there are conversations that never seem to take place (What does Baby think about his ‘son’’s drug problem? Why does no one mention the controversy surrounding the exit of Cash Money’s earlier stars (both Juvenile and B.G. have claimed that Baby supplied them/got them hooked on heroin at various points)?) and one wonders how much Wayne’s answers and actions are impacted by the fact that he’s high during most of his waking hours.

(2) Wayne is alone.

Wayne is surrounded by people for much of the film, from journalists to label-mates to the aforementioned anonymous entourage. I felt the most pity for him in those scenes. Have you ever known what it’s like to be alone in a crowd of people? We see Bryant confidently proclaim that Wayne is alone on his tour bus, quickly followed by a scene of Wayne surrounded by his entourage on the bus. We’re meant to think that Bryant is hilariously out of touch, but I got the impression that his statement was more truthful than he knew. Wayne ignores everyone on the bus for the most part, whether meticulously mixing his drinks or displaying false bravado. This is most clearly apparent in a segment in which Wayne and his crew are half watching something in ESPN. This is one of those scenes that would usually involve the kind of raucous cross-talk that friends watching sports have, but for the most part, he seems to be talking to himself. This may have been a deliberate choice by the filmmaker, but there are a number of scenes with a similar tone.

(3) Wayne is a musical genius.

“Repetition is the father of invention.” – Lil’ Wayne. It’s notoriously difficult for a filmmaker to capture the ineffable process of making music, especially if one’s trying to do so for a rapper. Watching someone’s brow furrow as they think of a clever line is not anyone’s idea o compelling viewing. I’ve seen this problem solved in a number of ways – by the artist explaining the meaning behind his lyrics, or demonstrating rhythmic patterns/wordplay (think Jay-Z on 60 Minutes). The Carter solves this problem in a unique way, by demonstrating how hip-hop has consumed Wayne’s life. We see him record almost constantly, in studios, in hotel rooms, and on his tour bus. We listen to Wayne’s charming (but sometimes painful) efforts to play instruments and sing. Most importantly, we listen to Wayne rhyme. There are a lot of distractions that impede a full appreciation of Wayne as a lyricist, ranging from personal controversies (see above and his impending incarceration for a gun charge) to his style of rhyming (he raps briskly, with verses that tend to overlap, and punchlines that follow one another in brief succession). The Carter goes a long way towards solving this problem for non-fans, by displaying verses on the screen, and showing Wayne rhyme without accompaniment. The former is occasionally distracting (and detracts from the verite vibe of the doc), but listening to Wayne perfect a part of his verse, repeating it at different speeds, alternating cadences, adding/removing words … is amazing.

Wayne is a perfectionist and a workaholic, and the film does a great job of portraying that, particularly in the scenes at the Hit Factory. I’ve heard a lot of Wayne’s songs, and have always appreciated their spontaneous, almost rushed quality. Wayne usually sounds as if he’s in some kind of fugue - he’s not quite freestyling, but he’s in some quasi-ecstatic state, blending the profound and the profane. Wayne’s music tends to be a slightly less self-aware version of a Ghost album. The Carter taught me that this is entirely (or mostly) a calculated effect. Although Wayne alternates between boredom and provocation in the junket interviews, he becomes animated when explaining what he does - he may spontaneously dream up fragments of verses, but continually refine them until they achieve his goal. It’s craftsmanship masquerading as inspiration. Wayne tells the camera that constantly recording relieves mental pressure, that his mind is so filled with ideas that he needs this outlet for release. That may be partially true, but it shouldn’t distract from appreciating the craft behind his music.

In the Q&A, someone compared this movie to the famous Bob Dylan documentary, Don’t Look Back. I think that argument holds merit in more ways than one. Dylan was always an artist that confounded audiences and critics by appearing to be whatever they imagined, whether hippie, genius, or prophet. Wayne carries on with this tradition - at the end of the film, you don’t know very much more about the man than you did when you came in.

Nah Right has some clips of the movie, which is currently available on Amazon. The site also features some footage from the Q&A. The video above is h/t to 2 Dope Boyz, okay player? Yes, I am a cornball. If there are any errors or misconceptions in this, please forgive me. I saw this once the night before my birthday, as the happy culmination of a terrible day. I previously discussed the Carter doc here.

(1) In a perfect world, every movie would end with a Q&A. A few years ago, E and I saw Good Dick, which featured a great Q&A with Jason Ritter and [director]. Since then, I’ve really developed an appreciation for them. In a really perfect world, Elvis Mitchell and Terry Gross would magically appear to do these panel discussions.

(2) Just as an aside, I really think that the movie highlights the pitfalls of treating substance abuse/addiction as a moral failing, character flaw, or a crime instead of a problem that needs to be solved. Even though Wayne’s emotional issues (and the addictive quaities of syrup) are probably the main reason he can’t stop using, I think that popular conceptions about addiction in the black community contribute to the problem. We associate drug use with failure, with an inability to function as workers/family members in society. We don’t condemn drug use because its harmful to your health, or because addiction tends to be an indicator of deeper emotional/psychological issues, but because it hampers productivity. So if you’re a successful, highly productive person, you don’t associate yourself with the homeless crack-addicted person on the corner, even if you exhibit the same addictive behavior. There’s a point in the doc when Wayne bellows (paraphrasing) “Could a junkie do this?” Probably not. But it’s hard to imagine Wayne at 40, or 50. How long can he live like this? For a fascinating discussion about uncoupling crime from morality, listen to this interesting diavlog between Mark Kleiman and Reihan Salam (crime, punishment and incentives), and between Kleiman and Megan McCardle (substance abuse and addiction). Check out Kleiman’s intriguing new book, When Brute Force Fails: How to Have Less Crime and Less Punishment here.