Next Day Air
Donald Faison, Mike Epps, Wood Harris, Mos Def, Darius McCrary, Cisco Reyes, Yasmin Deliz
(Summit Entertainment; US theatrical: 8 May 2009 (General release); 2009)
It’s no secret that most filmmakers have their muses, directors who came before them from whom they draw inspiration and ideas. While some consider it a complimentary homage, others argue that copying another auteur’s style is nothing more than a cynical creative rip-off. Of course, when you do steal, you really should steal from the very best. In the case of videographer turned big screen helmer Benny Boom, there had to have been better references to crib from than the Guy Ritchie catalog. For his first film, the man behind clips for such famous artists as 50 Cent, Nelly, Busta Rhymes and Akon has decided to make his very own version of the UK maverick’s celluloid rocknrolla. Sadly, Next Day Air is nothing more than Lock, Stock, and Two Pot Smoking, F-Bomb Dropping, Hip Hop Barrels.
For Leo, a job working for his mom at a delivery company has its fair share of travails. Not only is his parent constantly after him for dragging a toke or two while on the clock, but he can’t get away with the thieving, conniving things that favored co-worker Eric does. One day, he delivers a massive package to no good criminals Guch and Brody. It turns out the box contains 10 kilos of high grade cocaine. Seeing themselves getting very rich really quick, the duo contacts local drug kingpin (and Brody’s cousin) Shavoo. While they work out some manner of monetary arrangement, however, Mexican gangster Bodega contacts his underling Jesus and asks if he got the blow. When they find out the stuff is MIA, they begin prowling the neighborhood looking for Leo. Too bad they didn’t hunt a little closer - you see, Jesus and his chica Chita live right down the hall from Guch and Brody.
It’s hard to imagine how something like Next Day Air could actually work. It’s too violent and overloaded with gun-toting bravado to be a full blown comedy. On the other hand, it’s so hackneyed and derivative of the Tarantino pool of crime filmmaking that everything eventually drowns. For a director getting his one (and probably, only) shot at making a statement, why would you mimic someone whose already established? Other novice up and comers like Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor (the Crank films) take their cues from other forms of media - comic books, video games, and in High Voltage, the DIY dynamic of homemade cinema. With this effort, Boom goes directly to Snatch, steals all the rapid-cutting ADD amplified gimmickry, and then tosses in a ton of F-bombs to keep things “street”. There is no nuance here, no attempt at doing something clever or artistic. Instead, Next Day Air wants to coast on stunts and other attention-getting. All it does is float like a fetid air biscuit.
The actors often appear lost here, reliable talents like Mos Def (as the con jobbing Eric), Mike Epps (so good in Welcome Home Roscoe Jenkins) and Donald Faison (Scrubs) reduced to running around limply without a single punchline to provide. There are moments when you see them mouthing lines that you know aren’t funny - and if you look closely, you can tell that they know they’re not funny either. Even worse, the “thriller” element is only exciting to someone who hasn’t spent a long time at their local Cineplex. Between channeling QT, Ritchie, John Woo, and about a dozen other au courant names, you can really tell that this is Blair Cobbs’ first major motion picture script. It reads like something inspired by, not original to. Add in the glaring leaps in logic and rationality (would a person really looking for a package from a ruthless mobster actually let the delivery man go by without a more pointed inquiry?).
There will be those, however, who argue over the “intended” audience for this film, arguing that Boom and Cobbs are simply playing to a demographic that is grossly underserved by the Tinsel Town entertainment factory. They can argue over the success of Tyler Perry and other urban artists and confirm this fact. While that’s all well and good (and this critic has been known to champion Mr. Madea for his soulful gospel-tinged morality plays), this does not excuse accepting any old piece of garbage aimed your way. To assume that audiences of “color” should clamor for this movie simply because it supposedly plays to their particular perceptions is insulting. No matter your ethnic background, Next Day Air is a talentless travesty, a trying torture fest that wants to believe it’s cool and contemporary. And if you think such vile visuals give your community a bad name, you’ll be doubly offended by what you see here.
Indeed, Next Day Air is a sad excuse for something that, as stated before, no one could have properly pulled off. It’s witless and myopic, viewing the entire world as one big Scarface riff waiting, as Tony Montana would say, to get “****ed”. This is not to preclude Mr. Boom for future success, though one only has this overripe rejects as a means of making such a determination. In fact, this could be the kind of calamity that brings the true visionary out of the pure pretender on display here. Until that fateful day, here’s a warning to audiences intrigued by the possibility of another raw, raucous laughfest. Next Day Air is so bereft of anything remotely hilarious that, if you indeed find something worth snickering over during the course of its cramped 90 minute running time, you’ve clearly discovered a facet of the film not offered up on the screen. In a weekend which sees the bow of one of 2009’s best, this is destined to be one of the worst.