Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, July 24, 1993 TAG: 9307240123
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: B6 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MIKE MAYO CORRESPONDENT
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
It's a well-intentioned film with some effective moments that are undercut by a simplistic approach to the story and a lack of focus in the telling of it.
Subtitled "A Street Romance," it begins with the preface "Once Upon a Time in South Central Los Angeles . . ." But within a few minutes the light tone is shattered by a graphic murder. That abrupt, unsettling change of pace sets the stage for several more that follow as the main characters are leisurely introduced.
The title character, Justice (singer Janet Jackson) is a hair-dresser/poet (actual verse by Maya Angelou) who wears black for a lost love whose memory she can't let go. Lucky, (Tupac Shakur) is a mailman whose route includes the salon where she works. When he tries to get friendly with Justice, she and Jessie (Tyra Ferrell), the salon owner, cut him off in no uncertain terms.
He's not too happy then when Justice shows up as his blind date on a mail run from L.A. to Oakland. It seems that Lucky's friend and fellow postal worker Chicago (Joe Torry) has invited his girlfriend Iesha (Regina King) along for a ride in the truck, and she offers Justice a lift to a hairdressing competition. That's when this already unstable story skids off the rails.
The reason is simple: These four characters dislike each other. To be sure, they are realistic, but that doesn't make the time spent with them any more pleasant. Neither do the soft-focus, postcard-pretty California landscapes they drive past.
The film's point, as the subtitle indicates, is that Justice and Lucky are able to overcome the things that separate them, but that's accomplished through a weak plot device. It's really not giving anything away to reveal that the emotional power of the ending hinges on the death of a minor peripheral character who means nothing to the audience. It just doesn't work.
On the positive side, writer/director Singleton got convincing performances from his young and relatively inexperienced cast. Skakur proves that his impressive debut in "Juice" was no fluke. He's a fine young actor. Though Jackson does little more than look soulful, she's believable and she fares much better than most pop singers have on film.
She also handles Angelou's poetry about as well as anyone could. Singleton uses those poems in almost the same way that he uses music. Occasionally, Justice reads "her" poetry to other characters, but more often it's used to comment on or to underscore the emotion that Singleton is trying to evoke.
Audience reaction to the poetry will vary widely. For those who are willing to accept this kind of personal, nakedly emotional expression of feeling, it may seem absolutely right. Those who are more reserved about such things - or prefer a little subtlety - will dismiss it as schoolgirl sentimentality. Singleton uses the poetry so blatantly that there's no middle ground. You either accept it or you don't.
Give John Singleton credit for not resting on his laurels. Instead, he has tried to tell a hopeful story about contemporary characters who don't often see their lives portrayed on screen. That's a worthy goal. But this time, he let his heart rule his head.
Poetic Justice:**1/2 A Columbia TriStar release playing at the Salem Valley 8. 110 min. Rated R for extremely strong language and violence.
by CNB