Archive | City Matters

The Ragged Glory of ‘Chi-Raq’

Nobody crafts an opening credits sequence like Shelton “Spike” Lee. In “She’s Gotta Have It,” photo stills of old-school Brooklyn are accompanied by his father, the legendary jazz composer Bill Lee. BK local Rosie Perez busts out her hip hop-boxing moves to Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power” at the start of “Do the Right Thing.” “Clockers” starts with a montage of taped-off Gowanus crime scenes as Marc Dorsey sings “People in Search of a Life.” Kids run through the Crayola-hued streets of 1970s Fort Greene as The Stylistics sing “People Make the World Go Round” in “Crooklyn.” “Da Sweet Blood of Jesus” begins with the gorgeously fluid dancing of Charles “Lil Buck” Riley set against the Red Hook waterfront. It’s one of the auteur’s many signatures: that big, beautiful heart worn proudly on his sleeve from the moment he fires each film’s starting pistol.

Relatively speaking, the opening credits sequence of “Chi-Raq” is pretty straight-up. I suspect this is not just because it is set in Chicago but because Spike is grinding his biggest axe since 2006’s very fine “When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts,” which channeled the righteous anger of New Orleans residents after Hurricane Katrina. In bold, primary hues, the lyrics of “Pray for My City” – It’s Chi-Raq and my city’s lost/ I can’t fall victim to Satanflash – flash across the screen as they’re rapped by Nick Cannon, who plays the film’s titular character, the head of a fictional gang known as the Spartans. His street moniker stems from Chicago’s insidious nickname, which references that the number of the city’s homicides surpasses the number of American soldiers dead in Iraq. Continue Reading →

The Church of Extroverted Introverts

Yesterday was unseasonably warm—so warm that I felt compelled to stay outside the whole time the sun was out, as if I were a squirrel stuffing acorns in her cheeks (though with climate change, who knows how long this weather will last?). It was my first day off since Thanksgiving weekend, so I sat out with my coffee shop Muppet critics, bopped down to the farmers market, read my book on a bench with one eyebrow cocked at the early-afternoon brunchers. Around 3 pm I rolled over to Gowanus to toast a pal’s birthday at a backyard bar, and was happy to spend time with a new friend of whom I’ve very fond—at least until the sun dropped, at which point I hit my wall regarding people time and had to scurry home. I fell asleep on the subway—if I’d been wearing a red hat everyone would have assumed I was yet another Santa Con casualty—and put on my nightgown two minutes after I walked through my front door. Right before I passed out, I realized it was only 7pm.

That’s how I am right now. My back injury of last spring made it clear that I had to stop being such an island and, ever the obedient student, I took note. It also taught me that I had to keep moving—literally and figuratively—so ever since I regained my mobility I’ve been a she-rooster with her head cut off, a blur of grownup-lady bluster, a to-do list that takes no prisoners. I walk at least six miles a day, often right into the heart of what scares me, and it’s not just my waistline that thanks me. Continue Reading →

Blessings in A Minor

I was sitting on a stoop waiting on a friend, as the Stones used to sing, when I sneezed very emphatically, as is my wont. A little boy emerging from the elementary school across the street cried out in a high, triumphant voice, “Gesundheit!” Not to be outdone, all the other kids joined in, and for a second the honking cars of the early evening were drowned out by a symphony of children’s voices blessing me. The cockles of my cold heart are officially warmed.

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy