All Eyez on Me is an angry film. It wanted us to know in no uncertain terms that it was pissed off. While the Eyez biopic didn’t quite portray the late Tupac Shakur as godlike, it sure didn’t back away from the presumption that his considerable venom and ensuing wrath was justifiable, making his death a tragedy – almost as great a tragedy as the film’s inability to hold Tupac accountable for the missteps along his path to notoriety.
Clearly filming in the wake of Straight Outta Compton, director/sycophant Benny Boom insisted the tale of Tupac Shakur (Demetrius Shipp Jr.) was just as poignant as that of the N.W.A. fellowship. It isn’t. After that, Benny’s primary Boom was to show sympathy for a man who often acted on violent impulse and was, apparently, jailed a dozen times without cause.
I had no idea Tupac Shakur was the son of Black Panthers. Well that explains a few things, don’t it? Dealing almost exclusively in extremes, All Eyez wasted no time in showing how The Man shafted single, de-panthered, mom, Afeni Shakur (Danai Gurira). The style of this film is like one giant extended trailer – from the snippets of Li’l Tupac, we get the idea that the Feds were a common houseguest and mom was so irate about the whole thing that she eventually moved to Oakland and turned to drugs. Unfortunately, the city I call home has a way of doing that to people. What shouldn’t be lost is Tupac gives up an aspiring Shakespearean acting career in Baltimore; he leaves behind a would-be girlfriend in Jada Pinkett (Kat Graham). Yes, that Jada Pinkett. This film namedrops a beat more often than it drops a beat. You have to study this Jada farewell in Baltimore closely because at fifteen minutes in, it’s the last positive moment in the film.
Many musical biopics delve into process – they might show the inspiration for a hit song and then the artist getting that Dewey Cox sparkle. I may be wrong, but I’m not sure we saw a single moment of quiet contemplation in this film. Contemplation isn’t trailer material. All Eyez on Me wanted to fill every scene with either a fistfight or bumber sticker philosophy. The film is told in two timelines, one chronological as dictated by the second from jail where he’s interviewed by Hill Harper. Tupac, of course, didn’t commit the rape he’s convicted of and Hill Harper almost, nearly, kinda, sorta, maybe sniffs around reasonable questions regarding public perception before backing down; the film goes with Tupac’s version where the couple had no contact and insists that Tupac has been jailed for incendiary lyrics alone. I would find this explanation a tad more believable if All Eyez on Me didn’t literally gloss over ten additional times in his life Tupac was arrested.
Tupac Shakur spent a great deal of time talking, singing, and thinking about himself, and from title on down, All Eyez on Me seems to find this behavior 100% justifiable. I left this film thinking I know a great deal of what Tupac thought of himself and what the director thought of Tupac, but very little of Tupac’s impact and
inspiration. I understood that he was a great artist; I know not why he was a great artist. I know not how he was a great artist. I do know this much – film or no film, nobody produced from beyond the grave quite like Tupac Shakur. That guy died in 1996 and was still making new albums after 9/11.
I’ve been trying to envision the scenario, the culture, or the society in which Tupac Shakur lives beyond the age of 30; I can’t do it. There’s no question that he faced more than his share of hardships, but there also seems no question that he, in many ways, sought his own demise. All Eyez forgives him with the phrase, “[t]hey are going to give you the tools you need to destroy yourself.” This phrase is repeated several times in the film and acts as some sort of motherly therapist – Tupac isn’t to blame, society gave him the tools, not the choice. Did society also give him the desire to seek revenge as a life priority? I’m quite certain society jailed him unfairly on at least one occasion … how about the other ten arrests? The handling of the rape trial may as well have come straight from Tupac’s diary. All this, however, is background. The failure of All Eyez on Me amounts to a failure to demonstrate much more than the artist’s ego. For a man whose impact was great, he accepted little but self-indulgence. For a man whose personal poetry was art, he (apparently) had limited self-reflective skills, and for a legend who impacted a generation, this biopic reflects exactly himself and none other.
♪First off, buck your film and the stars you claim
WestFrog when I blog, come prepared for shame
You aim for artistry; I respectfully contrast
I busted Bad Boys, Smith/Lawrence left me aghast
Plus stuffy pretension, screenplays I rip
Biggie falls summer busts written by key grip
Steady punning, call me “player” got it all, you seez
VCR, laserdisc, stacks of DVDs
Hey, grab your socks when you see FrogBlog
Watch the mocks cuz it rocks, FrogBlog oh
You shun me, but your punks didn’t labor
Now, you’ll see a pen as mighty as a saber
Fellow, I’ll write it up♫
Rated R, 139 Minutes
D: Benny Boom
W: Jeremy Haft & Eddie Gonzalez and Steven Bagatourian
Genre: Me, angry me
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Tupac Shakur
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Tupac’s laundry list of rivals, temporary benefactors and sexual partners
♪ Parody inspired by “Hit Em Up”
