This is part eight of 411 Music’s groundbreaking 10-part series on the impact and influence of Tupac Shakur.
“I got shot.”
Those are the first words we hear as Tupac introduces us to his long-awaited documentary on his life and times. Right away, the opening credits effectively set the tone (as well as the ending that we all know is coming). With one of his most tragically complex pieces of work, Starin’ Through My Rearview, playing in the background we see the bright neon lights of the Las Vegas strip…not far from where this story will conclude.
MTV Films and Amaru Entertainment are banking that longtime Pac fans will line up for a story that’s been told dozens of times, mostly in “unauthorized” low-budget DVDs and tell-all paperbacks. This time, the filmmakers promise that it will be Tupac’s story “in his own words”.
This unique approach is immediately played up as an interview of Tupac reflecting on his November 1994 shooting is replayed over footage from his fatal shooting in 1996. It’s more than a little manipulative, but its eerie effectiveness cannot be denied. Along the same lines, it’s a good 20 minutes into the film before we actually see Tupac speaking his own words. For nearly a third of the film, we hear him speaking, but without seeing his face it almost does sound like he’s speaking from beyond.
The early retelling of Tupac’s childhood is mostly focused around his mother, Afeni and her infamous link to the Black Panther movement. Brief glimpses of 1970s fashion and pop culture are interspersed with anecdotes from Pac on growing up without his natural father and the strained relationship with his stepfather. His tales of being influenced by “pimps, prostitutes and gangstas” is pretty powerful stuff.
As Tupac grows into his teenage years, we’re there with him for each awkward step of the way. Most fans are not aware, but Shakur studied the performing arts at an affluent school in Baltimore and they’ve got the video yearbook footage to prove it. And no matter how embarrassing his skin tight acid washed jeans or gumby-step fade haircut might have been, they both pale in comparison to his lip-synched performance of a classic Fresh Prince song. Again, captured all on tape.
Tupac’s eventual move to California isn’t explained with more than a few words, but then, in one of the high points of the film, a 17-year-old Shakur appears in a crude videotaped interview with some insight of his own.
From there, we jump into his professional career including his early days with the group Digital Underground. Interestingly, Pac explains that the life of a rap artist isn’t all that glamorous as the video from his debut in Same Song leads into a piece from a concert where he’s stripped down to his underwear and simulating sex with a prop doll onstage.
As much of Tupac’s adult life was spent mired in legal drama, the film devotes a good chunk of time to practically every case Shakur caught. Much to my surprise, it does a solid job of getting both sides of the story and the images of a remorseful and apologetic Tupac lie in stark contrast to the defiant rapper who could be as angry and divisive as anybody.
Much of the movie’s second half is held together by a series of interviews that Tupac did with MTV from 1994 to 1996. Hardcore fans have probably seen these a million times, but the pacing is consistent and steady, while this film includes a few outtakes that surely never made it to the air during their original run. These include the disembodied voice of Tupac’s legal representative reprimanding interviewer Tabitha Soren for her line of questioning and Pac’s unique and hilarious explanation of the difference between a “n*gga” and a “n*gger”.
The entire East Coast/West Coast feud is covered solely from the perspective of Tupac and Biggie Smalls, which is probably how it should’ve been looked at. The events of the New York shooting are laid out from both Shakur and the Bad Boy Records camp, with two wildly differing accounts of what actually happened that night.
One of the biggest surprises is the inclusion of footage from a 1995 interview that Tupac did from jail. He looks uncharacteristically gaunt and disheveled, while his eyes look completely devoid of soul or spark. He admits that “prison breaks your spirit”.
Equally entertaining is the film’s view at the Death Row years of Pac’s life. We see a memo confirming the contractual obligation of Tupac to Suge Knight (the film mistakenly calls it the “actual contract”, but it’s actually a “confirmation of negotiations” document). The change in his persona and bravado is palpable, but for all the money he counts and the videos he makes, he makes a shocking confession about his time on Death Row Records that, to my knowledge, had only been rumored and never confirmed. I can’t give everything away, though.
My only real criticism of the film is found in the last two minutes. After going to such great lengths to keep from deifying Tupac, the filmmakers tack on a very contrived sequence that shows people of all races, colors and creeds from all over the world showing their Tupac pride in the form of pictures, albums and the like. The whole schmaltzy bit comes off as a rip-off of the “I am Malcolm X” conclusion to Spike Lee’s movie of the same name.
Next, in Part IX of Countdown to Resurrection, we will hold a 411 Roundtable Discussion on the impact and influence of Tupac Shakur. The panel will include fans, detractors and members of the 411Music staff.
The 411: Don’t be scared away from the amount of previously seen MTV interview footage. There’s enough rare and never-before-seen material to make this the definitive documentary for all Tupac fans. It’s even-handed, accurate and an exhilarating, yet heart-breaking ride from beginning to end.
Rating: 9.0
