Rags to riches. Success against all odds and at any cost. Rugged individualism. These are the basic constituents of the American Dream, and any film which explores such themes has the potential to say something significant about the US and its ideologies. Unfortunately, however, these are also themes by now mired in overuse (think 'Flashdance', think 'Dangerous Minds', think almost any American film about sport), and films which revisit them require a very intelligent script to avoid the pitfalls of cliche. The first problem with '8 Mile' is precisely that: all the very best efforts of its cast are not enough to save it from its terrible dialogue.
In fact, '8 Mile' would probably not be receiving much attention at all were it not for the participation of Eminem, who debuts here in the lead role of Jimmy 'Rabbit' Smith. Eminem is good, but the role cannot have been too much of a stretch for him, given that he appears largely to be playing himself - an angry, low-rent white boy who finds success in the world of hiphop. Similarly Kim Basinger, whom director Curtis Hanson previously allowed to extend herself in 'L.A. Confidential', is here fine but seems hardly challenged by a role for which she was born - as Rabbit's trailer-trash mother, Stephanie. And Brittany Murphy is simply not given adequate material with which to work as Rabbit's new flame/ho.
The scenes where Eminem gets to do what he is good at, rapping, are the best in the film by far, but they are also few and far between, with screenwriter Scott Silver teasing viewers by delaying Rabbit's first rap till as late as possible. There are, however, some amusing variations on rap early in the film. In one scene, Rabbit sings an impromptu lullaby to his kid sister Lily (Chloe Greenfield); in another he and his best friend Future (Mekhi Phifer) improvise incongruous lyrics to 'Sweet Home Alabama'; and, funniest of all, Rabbit opens his invective rhymes against a colleague at work with the words 'Enough gay jokes!', in a knowing inversion of the homophobia that prevails in Eminem's own rap lyrics.
'8 Mile' depends upon its viewers siding with Rabbit from the outset against the injustices which he perceives the world to have heaped upon him, and it dresses his upward mobility in the vogueish language of self-discovery, self-expression, and self-reliance. Yet to me he just came across as self-ish, pure and simple, and I would have preferred the film to focus less on the so-called manliness of his decision to go it alone, and more on the incidental casualties of his ascendency: like his ex-girlfriend, dumped the moment he found out she was pregnant; his mother, criticised because the car which she generously gives him is not perfect, and lectured when she dares to ask him to contribute financially to the upkeep of their home; and all his friends, repeatedly treated with scorn and agression when they have the audacity to try to help him, and finally abandoned at the precise moment that Rabbit has, with their help, found some success. In short, Rabbit is relentlessly unsympathetic, but the film is too simplistic to make anything interesting out of this.
It's not that '8 Mile' is such a terrible film; it's just annoying to see so much potential gone to waste. And I don't even want to get started on its racial politics...
In fact, '8 Mile' would probably not be receiving much attention at all were it not for the participation of Eminem, who debuts here in the lead role of Jimmy 'Rabbit' Smith. Eminem is good, but the role cannot have been too much of a stretch for him, given that he appears largely to be playing himself - an angry, low-rent white boy who finds success in the world of hiphop. Similarly Kim Basinger, whom director Curtis Hanson previously allowed to extend herself in 'L.A. Confidential', is here fine but seems hardly challenged by a role for which she was born - as Rabbit's trailer-trash mother, Stephanie. And Brittany Murphy is simply not given adequate material with which to work as Rabbit's new flame/ho.
The scenes where Eminem gets to do what he is good at, rapping, are the best in the film by far, but they are also few and far between, with screenwriter Scott Silver teasing viewers by delaying Rabbit's first rap till as late as possible. There are, however, some amusing variations on rap early in the film. In one scene, Rabbit sings an impromptu lullaby to his kid sister Lily (Chloe Greenfield); in another he and his best friend Future (Mekhi Phifer) improvise incongruous lyrics to 'Sweet Home Alabama'; and, funniest of all, Rabbit opens his invective rhymes against a colleague at work with the words 'Enough gay jokes!', in a knowing inversion of the homophobia that prevails in Eminem's own rap lyrics.
'8 Mile' depends upon its viewers siding with Rabbit from the outset against the injustices which he perceives the world to have heaped upon him, and it dresses his upward mobility in the vogueish language of self-discovery, self-expression, and self-reliance. Yet to me he just came across as self-ish, pure and simple, and I would have preferred the film to focus less on the so-called manliness of his decision to go it alone, and more on the incidental casualties of his ascendency: like his ex-girlfriend, dumped the moment he found out she was pregnant; his mother, criticised because the car which she generously gives him is not perfect, and lectured when she dares to ask him to contribute financially to the upkeep of their home; and all his friends, repeatedly treated with scorn and agression when they have the audacity to try to help him, and finally abandoned at the precise moment that Rabbit has, with their help, found some success. In short, Rabbit is relentlessly unsympathetic, but the film is too simplistic to make anything interesting out of this.
It's not that '8 Mile' is such a terrible film; it's just annoying to see so much potential gone to waste. And I don't even want to get started on its racial politics...