+ Love & Basketball review by Cynthia Fuchs
The eyes never lie
Omar Epps has his hotel bed pillows on the sofa, so he can lean
into them while he talks to you. But two minutes into the
interview, he's sitting up and facing you, enthusiastically
punctuating his points with his hands. At 26, the graduate of New
York's High School of Performing Arts already has an impressive
10-year career, including his debut in Ernest Dickerson's Juice
to John Singleton's Higher Learning, Charles S. Dutton's HBO
film, First Time Felon, and The Wood (not to mention his
memorable turns in ER and Scream 2). Today he's talking about
Love & Basketball, writer-director Gina Prince-Blythewood's
first feature, produced by Spike Lee and Sam Kitt. The film
follows the intersecting romance and careers of two young Los
Angeles-based basketball players, Q, played by Epps, and Monica,
played by his offscreen girlfriend, Sanaa Lathan (Blade, The Best Man).
Cynthia Fuchs: How do you think Love & Basketball is different
from what its viewers might have seen before?
Omar Epps: It's a new slice of African American life, with
basketball as a backdrop. It's refreshing in that it's part of
that new movement in black films, looking at the middle class,
both the kids come from two-parent household, so it's not against
all odds, or basketball or die. And for me, the major draw was
that the girl got to have her cake and eat it too.
CF: It's also unusual in that it splits audience identification
pretty evenly between two protagonists.
OE: Well, it really is about the girl, about Sanaa's character
Monica. I think that Gina did a good job of not making it only a
statement for women's sports, outright. She let the situation
speak for itself. I think it's a date movie and a family film. I
don't know why you wouldn't want to see it. With a lot of films,
I can see why someone from a certain area might not want to check
it out, but this one, with the love dynamic and the relationships
among the family members, has a lot to offer.
CF: Can you describe how you see the intergenerational relations?
OE: I think it's important, especially for black cinema, because
we don't get to see too often the father and son bonded beyond
biological circumstances: this father raised his kid, living in
the house with the mother. The last scene between my character
and his father leaves you with an optimistic feeling, because
they've both become men. I was so taken by the all parents'
stories, they're so solid and present throughout the film.
CF: How do you think it presents the tensions between career and
relationships?
OE: It's the real deal. You could use an older couple, who might
not be in the sports atmosphere, or who are in a corporate
atmosphere. Here, basketball is a metaphor for that tension. I
know independent women in their thirties, who have trouble
finding a guy who may not be where he wants to be, and vice versa
with men. It's more prevalent now in the 2000s, because there
are more women getting into positions of power, and not just
because it's a movement, but because they're the better person
for the job. So this movie comes right around that time, when
that's a discussion that people are having. And how do you work
it out? I don't know. I guess in our film, love triumphs over
all. But with compromises.
CF: Given that you've been working for so much of your life, what
kind of changes have you seen in the industry?
OE: I see more chances being taken. To me it's not a surprise,
it's just a process of events. In ten years, I've seen two waves
of actors come already. And I've seen technology definitely do
its thing. I remember when Jurassic Park came out, that was
like, "Oh my god!", but then when The Matrix came out, it was
on a completely different level. And I've seen people become more
accepting of art, coming back to that auteur mindframe. Hollywood
is based on money, so whatever makes dough, that's what they're
going to duplicate, whatever doesn't, they'll shelf. But I've
seen studios take chances, make the Good Will Huntings once in
a while. And the independent rush, that's the biggest thing that
everyone's seen. You can get a High 8 or Handicam, go out and
make Blair Witch, and it might make $144 million. That's all
about chance, which is exciting.
CF: And Spike Lee, one of the producers for your film, has
important for that increasing interest in independent films.
OE: Definitely, I think he helped push the independent mindframe,
as a writer, director, performer, and producer. Spike is like
the magician who gives away his tricks. Magicians don't usually
give away their secrets, but Spike encourages you and gives
tricks away, as if to say, "You can do this if you want to do
it." Cats like Spike, who inspire and show and prove by his work,
it's only good. And he has a huge responsibility. I remember at
the inception of the new black film renaissance, mid-eighties,
there was Spike, and because he was a young black writer-director, he
had the whole plight of our people on his shoulders.
He basically had to rewrite our cinematic history. The "great"
films before that were Superfly and The Mack, which were
shitty films but for the time, they served purpose. So Spike had
to show that we were artistic, and we were clever, and witty and
smart, and that we had the ability to make a credible film that
was colorless. If you take Spike Lee's name off of Malcolm X
or Mo' Better Blues, they're still great fucking movies. He's
definitely one of our warriors.
CF: As your previous films have been "mainstream," what's it like
having a film in festivals [Love & Basketball is screening at
numerous film festivals before opening commercially]?
OE: I dig it. Sometimes I get a chance to see some other films,
which I might not see otherwise. And everyone is here to see
films, that's cool. Love & Basketball isn't really a festival
type of film, but I guess the vibe has people interested in it.
It's a feel-good movie and inspirational, which is the kind of
film they use to open or close a festival.
CF: I suppose, to the powers that be, a film written and directed
by a black woman may be unusual, i.e., "festival" material.
OE: You know, someone asked me the other day, what was it like to
work with a woman director. I was like, what? I don't want to
sound like Mr. Philosopher, but art doesn't have a gender. What I
wanna say is, she has the ability, she's an artist. But it's the
society we live in, that's still a battle.
CF: How do you see your career taking shape?
OE: I'm glad that now I've done a real date movie, I hadn't done
a love story before, and next I want to do a romantic comedy,
show a lighter side. I want to be respected. I think I people
know of my dramatic ability. I would live to be heralded like
Denzel, but at the same time, you would never believe him in a
light comedy.
CF: Heart Condition, no. But Preacher's Wife, a little
closer.
OE: A little bit, maybe. But I want to be able to flip like Robin
Williams and Tom Hanks: these guys are brilliant comedians but
when they do the dramatic stuff, you're there with them. Or Jim
Carrey, I thought he was amazing in Man on the Moon. This
[generically limited] system is set up because, people
individually, we don't control anything. But as a mass, we
control. It's hard to break the mold because the mold is a
dollar, it's all about money. It's hard to take a risk or
gamble, because who knows what's going to miss. They're going to
make Waterworld for $100 million and it flops, but they'll do
another one because one of those is going to hit.
CF: What do you make of the emerging viewership, say, for The Best Man, people who know how the business works and who network
by email and make the effort to see the film the first weekend to
secure for it a huge opening office?
OE: There's so much that's out of our control, as actors. But
for viewers, what used to be word of mouth is now word of keypad.
The internet is another platform for independent films: you can
set up a website, get a following, who knows what could happen.
But word of mouth is big now because you might have that friend
in London, and type to her, "Hey, this was a good movie, go check
it out," and then she spreads the word, like disease. There are
more platforms for people to go against the grain. But it's hard
when you try to make a statement with a film. You automatically
pigeonhole yourself, because only a certain amount of people are
going to come out and see it. And you can't be mad at the masses
who don't come out, because maybe they just don't want to deal
with that. So if it's X or a Schindler's List, well, that
did well, but it was harrowing.
CF: But you feel like Love & Basketball does both.
OE: Sure, and that's a testament to Gina. There's not any scene
in the film that's a statement, like: here's the monologue.
That's how you do it: you place life in front of people, but you
don't point the finger and say, you are here, let me guide you
through. That's what's exciting about the discussion of this
film: everybody's getting a different thing from it. Some people
are more into the relationship between the father and son, other
people are into the relationship between Sanaa and I, others are
into the sports. There are many discussions to be had. And
that's the best thing. You want people to be entertained but to
think, to have something to talk about.
CF: Was there a part of the film that was difficult for you?
OE: The biggest challenge was to go back to the seventeen- or eighteen-year-old mindset. Not to act it, I wanted to live it,
because the eyes never lie. It was hard to be consistent, and
not think, because at that age, you're just full of passion and
you think you know but you don't know, and you do know, and all
those things at once. It was so uncomfortable.
CF: And the basketball as business as well as sport complicates that young life.
OE: Definitely, especially for Sanaa's character. She's going
against the odds, being a woman player generally, but also for
her individually. Monica wasn't born with the talent, she had to
learn it and work on it and deal with her mother, who wanted
her to be more an effeminate woman versus just realizing her own
potential. Whereas my character has the talent and has the
backing of his father, has it laid out for him, and is surpassing
all the things his father had done at his age. But my
character's question is, is basketball everything? And if not,
then what else is there? And he ends up with love, which is the
wealthiest thing of all. Which is important for kids now, because
the mindset you have now is, either you have a wicked jump shot
or you sling crack rock. So this film conveys that without
preaching, without having that scene where someone says, "You
ain't got no back up!" For all these young kids coming into the
NBA, getting shitloads of money and endorsements, it's not so
much can they play the game, it's the lifestyle. It's hard to
tell them anything, because they're paying the bills, providing
for their families. And it's harder for them to teach themselves
to learn. It's a whirlwind. I can only imagine; it's been a
whirlwind for me, but sports is completely different, you're
traveling everywhere all year round, and your face is on tv
constantly, and you're in video games and on jerseys, and how do
you deal with that? All you're doing is dribbling a basketball,
and that can't be life. But it's happening for a reason.
CF: And the reason is?
OE: In my mind I can narrow it down. For the money thing, it's
only fair. If a team has $120 million to pay Kevin Garnett or
Shaquille O'Neal, how much are they making off of the guy? It's
not like they're making 300 and want to give him half. No.
They're making billions. But the money thing aside, it's
important that these guys realize their responsibility and that
basketball is not just a means to an end, it's the first phase of
whatever their greater destiny is. Once I really got into the
business, on the audition circuit, I dreamed of being on the set
and doing interviews. When I did get on the set, I was young,
and I know where I was mentally as a young man, and I know where
I am now. And it's so easy to stay in that young man's
mentality, because it's all so surreal. You're living out your
dreams. But when you let your feet touch the ground, and you see
the responsibility and the opportunity spread out before you.
CF: Do you feel a responsibility to represent?
OE: I feel it to a small degree. It's not something I wear on my
shoulder. It's something that's natural. I'm a black man and
proud of it, I love my people. And I'm all for the "one world,
one culture," but in order for us to have one culture, each
culture must be its own and understand its own. And as an African
American man, we are the number one displaced people in the
world, because you can come to America and you can go to the
Greek or Chinese part of town, and people still have their own
native tongue. We're the only people us and white people,
actually who don't have a native anything. We're just trying
to find our way, in the midst of everybody reaping the benefits
of our ancestors' work.
But the primary responsibility I feel is just to kids in general,
no matter what color. I'm inspired by kids, so I would like to
return the favor. I want to push it so that my daughter,
godsons, and goddaughter won't have to go through and see the
same things that we saw. That's what it's all about: recycling
and sacrifice. I want to make the best of my time on earth, so
the ones that come after us can be smarter, wiser, stronger, more
talented. The responsibility that I feel comes naturally, it's
the nature of my person. I don't have to go to the school in the
slums and put on my face. I live that every day, with every
person I come in contact with. And that's the easiest thing to
do is, be me.