Mo’ Better Blues (1990)

Starring: Denzel Washington, Spike Lee, Wesley Snipes, Joie Lee, Cynda Williams, Giancarlo Esposito, Bill Nunn, Robin Harris, John Turturro, Nicholas Turturro, Samuel L. Jackson, and Charlie Murphy
Grade: B

In just a few scenes, I couldn’t help but think that Robin Harris was taken away from us way too soon.

Summary

In Brooklyn, New York in 1969, four kids go to the apartment where a young Bleek Gilliam lives to see if he’s ready to join them in a neighborhood baseball game. One of these children is Giant. Sadly, Bleek is stuck doing his trumpet lesson in the house on orders from his mother (Abbey Lincoln). He tries to argue with her, and his baseball-loving father (Dick Anthony Williams) tries to talk to his mother as well, but she insists Bleek finish his trumpet lesson first. All three argue, with Bleek talking about how much he hates playing and his father just trying to keep the peace because he wants to go back to watching the baseball game on television. Bleek relents and plays for his mother, though he still insists he hates it.

We fast forward to today where a now grown Bleek Gilliam (Washington) has his own jazz band “The Bleek Quintet”. It consists of tenor and soprano saxophone player Shadow Henderson (Snipes), pianist “Left Hand” Lacey (Esposito), “The Earl of Rhythm” drummer Rhythm Jones (Jeff “Tain” Watts), and bass player Bottom Hammer (Nunn). They a have a regular spot playing at the club, Beneath the Underdog. The manager of the band is a now grown Giant (Spike). In the middle of their performance, Shadow does his elongated solo routine and Bleek wanders off stage for a second to talk to Giant. Giant is tired of Shadow trying to steal the spotlight with his outrageous number of solos and tells Bleek to fire him. Bleek laughs it off and heads back on stage to finish their first set and to introduce the band to the crowd. As the audience cheers, owners of the club Moe and Josh Flatbush (John and Nicholas Turturro) talk about how great the band is. A cheery Bleek concludes thing and brings on beloved club comedian Butterbean (Harris) to the stage. Backstage, Bleek talks to Shadow about his solos, and it devolves into a defensive argument pretty quickly, involving all the members of the band. After Bleek offers Shadow the option to quit, Shadow feigns like he’s considering it but just heads to the bathroom. All in all, the argument is more playful than you would think, and it doesn’t get that serious.

The next morning, Bleek wakes up with his girlfriend and schoolteacher Indigo Downes (Joie Lee). They have a playful relationship, but certain foreshadowing is clear when Indigo refers to Bleek as a “dog” and how her mother told her to never marry a musician because of all the heartbreak that comes with it.

Bleek doesn’t mind the dog term and goes outside to meet his father to play some catch, as he’s still the ultimate baseball fan. Throwing the ball back and forth, they discuss Bleek’s sleeping around with women, so his father gives him advice to be careful because he doesn’t want Bleek to have a child out of wedlock. Following this, Mr. Gilliam strains his arm but leaves Bleek on a happy note, deciding to go home instead of icing his arm down. Later, Bleek practices alone in his apartment, but he’s interrupted by his other girlfriend Clarke Bentancourt (Cynda Williams). He’s annoyed because he has a very strict schedule that he follows to keep up his skills as a musician, but Clarke had to come see him. As he explains this to her, she laughs it off and wonders why he keeps Giant as his manager if he takes his career so seriously, knowing how bad Giant is at his job. Bleek changes the subject and eventually, they have sex. However, things stop sooner than expected once Clarke bites Bleek’s lip and he flips out because this is the one body part that can’t be injured as a trumpet player. Meanwhile, Giant meets with his bookie Petey (Rubén Blades) and makes another heavy wager on a series of MLB games. Petey isn’t necessarily convinced Giant can cover the money, but Giant insists on making the bet official. As we see the numbers crunching skills of Moe and Josh Flatbush at the club office of Beneath the Underdog, we see Giant getting refused entry at the same club that night by the two bouncers (one of them being Charlie Murphy).

Backstage at the club, Giant, Bleek, and the rest of the group note Lacey is late again. Giant assumes he’s with his French girlfriend Jeanne again and he’s right, with Lacey and Jeanne showing up soon after. Lacey acts apologetic for his lateness but isn’t too sincere about it, which annoys everyone else. Bleek asks for Jeanne to leave nicely twice, but she says she will right after she’s done fixing Lacey’s clothes to make him look good, prompting Giant to flip out and telling her to leave in front of everyone. Once she exits the room, Lacey gets mad at the others for being hard on her, but Giant reminds him no one is allowed in their dressing room, especially when they’re about to go on stage. Lacey gets defensive and assumes they give her shit just because she’s white, but this only sets off a roast session that eases the tension in the room. Regardless, Bleek reminds him of the rules they set, so it hopefully doesn’t happen again. As the Bleek Quintet go onstage for another performance, Giant meets with Moe and Josh Flatbush to renegotiate for more money because of how successful the band has been recently. Unfortunately, Moe and Josh refuse, saying they already agreed on their previous contract, and they will not be changing it for any reason. That night, Bleek gets back to his apartment to see a frustrated Indigo waiting outside for him. She’s been there for a while, but Bleek defuses the argument with his playful demeanor. He talks about how great they were at the club, but Indigo reminds him how going to the club isn’t really her thing and she prefers to be more of a homebody.

Later on, the two are inside talking and Indigo asks what Bleek would do if he couldn’t play his music. He says he’d probably “roll up in a corner and die”. Music is Bleek’s life. However, as Bleek’s personal life progresses and bleeds into his career as a musician, along with his inability to juggle all the problems he caused, his aspirations may take a hit because of where his loyalties lie. The lifestyle he lives may cost him dearly. This is especially true when referring to his friendship with compulsive gambler Giant, who lost his most recent bet and puts in yet another, making doom a potential outcome for the both of them.

My Thoughts:

Being the first “Spike Lee Joint” after Do the Right Thing, there were certain expectations with Mo’ Better Blues. Considering how different the two projects were, this was never a fair comparison. Though the enigmatic filmmaker’s style and material is present throughout, Mo’ Better Blues is an entirely different production focusing in on chauvinistic jazz musicians in Brooklyn, New York, the women in their lives, and how nothing in life is more important to these men than their music.

Well, at least they think it is.

In the exciting night club scene in New York, Spike Lee introduces us to the world of locally famous entertainers and the fast lives they live. Bleek Gilliam is one of the biggest up-and-coming musicians around and there’s a good reason as to why. As is the case with anyone who wants to make it to the top of this highly competitive industry, the only thing Bleek takes seriously in life is his music. In some wonderfully stylistic scenes and moments in classic Spike Lee fashion, we see Bleek’s focus when he’s practicing. As he stares intently or even closes his eyes to figure out the complexities of the idea he’s trying to bring out through song, Bleek will say nonsensical phrases aloud, hum melodies from his head while trying to figure out rhythmic patterns and where certain instruments will fit into a completed composition, and how he takes mental notes while he vigorously searches and listens through recordings of past jazz legends like John Coltrane. He’s like a musical mad scientist in some respects, showing the viewer how music isn’t just a learned talent. It’s a lifestyle, and it takes years of hard work to get where he’s at, something he explains to a novice talent like Clarke who thought she was ready to sing for his band after a few months of practice. Some people just don’t get it. It may look easy when you see the performance of Bleek and his band, but it’s all well-rehearsed and carefully developed and constructed because of years of experience and dedication to his craft. Within these small moments throughout the film, the audience sees how this mentality and focus on music is so ingrained into him, he looks a little crazy to an outsider who doesn’t know the steps it takes.

It’s pure unbridled passion.

Even when drunk, Bleek talks about how important his voice is for the music he makes and the art he brings to life. He believes in what he’s doing and is fully invested with bringing his ideas to life. Thankfully, the people are responding to it too, and this is why his confidence as a bandleader and womanizer is at an all-time high. He can’t be stopped. Because of his hard work and belief in his own abilities, he’s not a struggling artist trying to get his voice heard. People are coming in droves because of Bleek’s passion for his music and how it’s translating to the stage mightily. It’s all about confidence, and Bleek Gilliam is full of it. This is why he’s been so successful to this point. However, this is it with Bleek. Everything else is secondary. In every other aspect of his life, he’s laidback, cool, and selfish. Besides his father and his best friend Giant, he doesn’t really care about anyone else in his life and doesn’t mind hurting anyone on a personal level. At first, he plays it cool. One day he’s with his girlfriend Indigo, an intelligent and mature schoolteacher. Later on, he’s with his other girlfriend Clarke, an aspiring singer who may not be the “marrying” type. Despite switching from girl to girl every single day in the midst of his nightlife as a musician, he has no qualms about it. Bleek is perfectly fine with the way things are and has no thoughts regarding the goals in his personal life. Indigo calls him a “dog” and knows of his womanizing tendencies, and he doesn’t even deny it. He just plainly states “It’s a dick thing”, as if this is his excuse as to why he sleeps around and doesn’t care about anyone’s feelings.

In one scene, as soon as he’s done with Clarke and she tries to talk to him, we watch as Bleek goes into practicing and humming his melodies to the point where he drowns out Clarke’s voice as she’s talking. Once it’s time to focus on the music, nothing else is important. Once he gets what he wants out of his women, he’s done with them. Without saying it directly, Bleek is explaining that his position in life and his status is above relationships, and no one else matters. He truly believes that himself and his music is more important. He’s cool with being a “dog”, with music being his only focus, and messing with these women’s heads knowing they both want more from him. In the first half, we love it too. Though this chauvinism and the way it’s handled would be pretty despicable coming out of anyone else, Denzel Washington may be one of the only people who could pull off this role and still make the character likable enough to get through the runtime. Bleek is a complicated and flawed lead character, but Washington still makes him an enjoyable and charismatic young man who you still want to root for, despite his selfishness and misogynistic tendencies. Truthfully, this is the first time in Washington’s career that we get to see him play the role of somewhat of a scumbag, and he still makes it kind of cool. This is the power of the “movie star”. It’s a very different role for Denzel in this earlier part of his career, but it’s reason enough to check this film out.

As cool and as talented as Bleek is, he has a lot to learn regarding people, relationships, and what actually matters in life. An asshole in his own right, Shadow is right in saying that “Bleek only cares about Bleek”. Though we want to see Bleek win on some level, we know his world will crash in on him because he sets himself up for failure. Everything in the first act, from certain actions to certain lines, foreshadows a catastrophic downfall, but we want it to happen so we can see how he will recover and how he will change because of it. Yes, he takes his music seriously and studies it from every angle, but his lack of respect and treatment of the women and people in his life, and not treating it with nearly as much care as his music, will ultimately be his undoing. The entertainment stems from wondering how he will respond.

The foreshadowing is clear right from that first conversation he has with the innocent Indigo. In a striking sequence, Spike doubles down with how women impact Bleek’s life when Bleek’s practice is interrupted by Clarke. As they make out, the camera spins around them in a quick, circular motion. It mirrors the same memorable shot of Bleek practicing and the camera focusing on him the same way. However, when it’s done here, it’s like Bleek’s head is spinning and his concentration is thrown off to show us what the women in his life do to him. When we get to the pivotal scene in which he calls each woman by the other’s name and they flip out, it’s clear how frazzled Bleek is because the women have yet again thrown him off. This is why he always tried to avoid going deeper into relationships. He simply can’t handle it and doesn’t approach the subject with nearly enough care as he does his music. Then, in typical Bleek fashion, he changes his tune, puts it on them, and breaks it off with both of them like it’s their fault he’s a piece of shit.

He starts to get lazy and even takes chances when women get involved in his life. Buying the same red dress as a gift for both women exemplifies this. Sure, it was a million-to-one shot that they would both show up to Bleek’s club at the same time, and Bleek can pass it off as bad luck, but you already know this recklessness in his decision-making regarding his personal life was going to bite him on the ass. He had it coming!

Besides his music, he can’t juggle anything else in his life and chooses the wrong hills to die on until it’s almost too late. This is where things start to fall apart. I love Denzel, you love Denzel, but Bleek has some growing up to do, and he won’t understand this unless something happens to him. The life-altering lessons Bleek learns from all of this gives us a very compelling narrative complimented by Spike Lee’s signature style all over the product. Nevertheless, just as important is the accompanying soundtrack from Spike’s father Bill Lee, along with the Branford Marsalis Quartet and Terence Blanchard. Considering this is all about the importance of jazz music in Bleek and the other members of the band’s life, the soundtrack couldn’t be haphazardly slapped together. The score had to be a representation of what jazz is, why it’s so important for everyone involved, and why it’s the best music for a narrative like this one. With one notable exception in the wedding sequence (more on that later), the team Spike brought together helped make his vision come to life. On countless occasions, we become entrenched in the narrative while watching certain romantic sequences and scenes showcasing the fast times of the nightlife in Brooklyn, New York because of this carefully crafted score. Whatever Spike wants to make you feel in the moment, the music is selected accordingly. You don’t even realize it until the pivotal beat down of Giant when Bleek watches his friend get taken into the alley during his performance, and he can’t do a thing until he’s done because he’s in the middle of his song. The overwhelming stress felt in the music, in Washington’s face, and the constant intercuts between the band and Giant getting his ass kicked by Samuel L. Jackson wouldn’t feel nearly the same without the chaotic trumpet-playing happening at the same time.

In addition, there are also a lot of dedicated compositions for Bleek and the Bleek Quintet to bring us into his world Spike has created, showing the audience why these locals come back so often to see them. It works impressively throughout, and I’m not even a fan of jazz to begin with. Even the “We Don’t Need Another Love Song” sequence worked in presenting the freestyling ways of jazz and how Bleek’s music is spirited, creative, high-energy, and different with every song. The effort it took to make this all happen is obvious and can’t be noted enough.

The lyric-less “Mo’ Better Blues” song is still stuck in my head as something I can whistle to every day of the week, though I’ve never actually learned how to whistle.

…but I digress…

Anyway, the music has to be good and with a charismatic star like Bleek, a talented saxophonist like Shadow, and a cool aura surrounding a band like the Bleek Quintet, the popularity of the group is exemplified in every performance. The passion for the material is there, the onstage energy is there, and the music is good enough to where we feel like we’re a part of the experience as we watch the men tear the house down. Though these musical sequences are a little bit longer, there’s not a single moment I would cut. Could the narrative or even the ending (which was arguably ten minutes too long like Notting Hill) have been tightened up a bit? Sure, but the musical interludes made the viewer appreciate the music as much as characters like Bleek and Shadow do, which is important to the overall story and to understanding the characters on a personal level. In an untamed script, questions can arise like, “Why does this matter so much? This character should know he’s hurting these women. Music isn’t that big of deal”. For non-musicians or passive music listeners, a writer needs to explain the passion for such a subject, how it was instilled in them, why it’s still there, and the love for the medium for those that aren’t interested, just so the viewer can get invested in the story the writer has created and actually care for what’s transpiring. With these longer sequences, certain plot and character details, and Washington’s performance as Bleek, Spike Lee covers every angle and is able to convey this thought process to the audience very well. This way, even the biggest hater of jazz understands why Bleek is so distraught by the time the third act comes around and how devasting that final performance at Shadow’s club is.

It all hits harder with jazz.

Once again, Spike Lee makes his supporting role highly entertaining, despite his noticeably limited acting abilities. Honestly, I don’t know how Spike gets away with it. He’s a below average actor, is emotionally stunted in the way he speaks on camera, and there seems to be nothing behind those big eyes of his at times. Even so, he has a presence about him that can’t really be explained. Along with this, he seems to know his own limitations and chooses the right character to play almost every time. In his older “Joints”, he’s usually one of the more entertaining parts of the movie. It’s so strange how he’s able to pull this off. No one else can get away with this in a major mainstream production, but Spike has something about his look, his style, and the way he speaks that make him this likeable and funny presence on camera. It’s not self-indulgent at all. Spike just created a cool movie, wanted to be in it, and created a role for himself to make it work. I respect it. Though he’s not the enigma of Mars Blackmon in She’s Gotta Have it, his role as the neighborhood gambler Giant is amusing, interesting, and a huge part in getting a sense of the culture of the live-fast, underground, nighttime atmosphere of Mo’ Better Blues.

Spike is also a known trendsetter. He always comes up with a word, phrase, or something else that you just want to copy because of the way Lee presents it onscreen. In this movie, it’s when Giant explains to Bleek that Shadow is boning Clarke by way of his slow, “forward fist” gesture. It’s kind of stupid, but it works in-context, and it’s something the character would do when you consider his loyalty and honesty with his best friend. Plus, it’s pretty funny. I don’t know what to say. Early Spike Lee was that dude. If you’ve seen enough of his early work, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

This film can boiled down to what Clarke says: “People can teach you two things – what to do and what not to do”.

For every major character doing something positive, another character responds by doing something negative and vice versa, and people are either learning or responding in different ways with each progressive scene. Because of this, every character is flawed in their own way, which is what makes the drama as compelling as it is. We like Bleek and like what he does for his own career, how he takes care of his father, his loyalty to Giant even though everyone else has given up on the guy, and his assertive and yet understanding approach with his band. On the other hand, he also shows us what not to do by treating Indigo and Clarke so poorly, refusing to take responsibility in key moments, and then blaming them for getting mad. As good of a friend Giant is with Bleek, he’s a gambler, he’s bad at his only job (Bleek admits he would have fired Giant a long time ago if he wasn’t his friend at one point), he’s a liar, and he’s a massive liability to have around. However, he’s the only one who’s willing to say what’s wrong with certain members of the band and keep things in check. Shadow is as talented as they come. Though we understand his issues with money, he shows us how not to act because of his inability to get over his own ego and he slowly works his way to pissing off Bleek by grabbing Clarke from under his nose, an underhanded tactic that plays a big part in starting the breakup of the band. Furthermore, he’s just as much of a dog as Bleek is. When he explains his cheating ways to Giant in his apartment, as he asks Giant for advice on whether he should clean his sheets or not because his current girlfriend may notice the smell of another woman on them, Giant asks Shadow why he just doesn’t break up with his girlfriend knowing she doesn’t trust him (and even counts his condoms).

Shadow plainly explains to Giant that he has three reasons. He likes her, she’s great in bed, and the third reason “doesn’t matter”. To conclude the humorous scene, Giant concurs saying those are “three good reasons”. As you can see, everyone has a problem with each other. On paper, they’re all hard to like as human beings, even Clarke, who seems slightly unstable. Every relationship is a combustible one and the viewer has walked in at just the right moment, waiting for the drama to unfold. The only exception is Indigo. In her best role, Joie Lee is at her most desirable, playing a homebody trying to deal with our main character’s refusal to settle down, which is something she does not deserve. This is what bothers me about the ending and was similar to my problem with the ending of Eddie Murphy’s Boomerang.

SPOILERS

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SPOILERS

Am I the only one who thought the climax wasn’t sincere enough? Bleek’s approach was all wrong. After giving up his trumpet because his lip is still split and he can’t play, he goes straight to Indigo’s house to beg for her back. She straight-up says to him, “The only reason you’re here is because you can’t play anymore”. She’s 100% right! From an outsider’s perspective, Indigo was the marrying type. Right from the start, it’s obvious who Bleek should pursue. No one would trust Clarke for more than a fling. How he didn’t see that before is beyond me. Second of all, it’s clear early on that the ultimate message of the movie will be that there’s more to Bleek’s life than music and how important caring for others in his life is, especially because creating these relationships is what shapes a human life. It doesn’t take a genius to see why his personal selfishness will play a big part in his undoing. However, Spike Lee again struggles to write realistic romantic dialogue to make the audience feel more for this relationship, the one that is “saving” the main character’s life and giving us a worthwhile finale for such a back-and-forth, drama-filled buildup. It didn’t carry the emotional weight it needed for us to truly believe in Bleek’s sincerity because he was still on the fence with both women following his self-exile from society. When he finally does decide to reach out, he calls both women right after the other. How can we not think that he has just accepted that Clarke is with Shadow now, and he’s going to Indigo as his consolation prize? How are we supposed to believe in anything different?

We can’t because we know how Bleek is and his personal thoughts on both women. The timing of it in the screenplay also makes him look guilty of this “consolation prize” idea. Denzel can act his heart out all he wants, but the writing and how these scenes were placed in the screenplay screwed the believability of the emotion and the character intent. To further this, Indigo points out how she even reached out to Bleek, but he ignored her for over a year! Now, she’s supposed to believe he thought about everything and wants her to be the one he ends up with? Why? So, she looks like the biggest sap of them all, who’s just hurting for a relationship from some guy who didn’t give a fuck about her not too long ago? Why should she believe him? To go along with what she says, “You want me to just drop everything and trust you?”. No, I don’t buy it. Indigo shouldn’t buy it, and no one watching Mo’ Better Blues should buy it. Bleek lost and picked what was left. Then, he tried to beg for forgiveness from the one woman who might give in because she’s a good-hearted person. Seeing his approach not work, Bleek then gets inexplicably aggressive like it’s her fault or something and starts grabbing her and pleading with her to “save my life”, but it just doesn’t work because this is all on him. This is the one time where he needed to breakdown and accept that he’s fucked up. If he took responsibility for what previously transpired between them and him pleading his case in an emotional moment, it would make sense for her to take a second look at him, but they lost me when he just starts flipping out on her. For him to be grabbing her so forcefully, I’m not sure why Indigo would relent or listen to him at all. If anything, this should push her more in the direction of ‘You lost your shot. Please get the fuck out of my house”.

To my annoyance, she just accepts it, and they start kissing.

The transition in the conversation just isn’t realistic, only adding to the biggest critique of Spike’s work in that he can’t seem to write for female characters, even if his sister is playing one of them. If this wasn’t Denzel Washington playing Bleek, any woman would tell this motherfucker to walk out that door and to never come back. You can’t convince me otherwise. The last half hour was purely centered around Bleek taking a final “L” and settling for some stability from whoever was left in his life willing to listen. This is why the fast-paced montage through life in the closing moments of the film (marriage, pregnancy, fatherhood, etc.) didn’t click with me on an emotional level. It felt a tad too bloated. The entire time, you’re getting ready for Bleek to fuck things up again. The music didn’t help this sequence either because it was too gloomy for the moment. It fit the brisk pace life moves at, but the sounds gave off somber, chaotic, and confusing vibes, despite the sequence trying to represent themes of positivity and redemption. The closing moments were nice, with Bleek correcting his parent’s mistake after going through the life he lived and becoming a good father and loving husband when this was never a thought in the character’s mind previously, but the ten minutes before it was a juxtaposed mess that made the ending not nearly as impactful as it should have been considering everything we saw.

With a litany of great artistic choices, and an ode to jazz music and the nightlife of performers in New York City, Spike Lee puts together a captivating comedy-drama powered by Denzel Washington, a wonderful cast, great direction, bluesy cinematography, and a narrative that is much more entertaining than you would expect. Mo’ Better Blues shows mainstream audiences that it doesn’t really matter what type of music an artist makes. In general, musicians are just wired different. The film has its issues regarding certain elements of the story, characters, and outcomes, but it’s a welcomed addition to Spike list of films in which he covered almost every aspect of production.