Back when I was discussing Blue Rage, Black Redemption, official friend of www.thebaltimorons.com Evie reminded me of a recently released documentary about gangs I wanted to watch called Crips and Bloods: Made in America.  I had originally heard about it on Pardon the Interruption because one of the producers is Los Angeles Clipper Baron Davis, he of the totally awesome beard.  Although it did appear in theatres, the release was extremely limited and focused more on the west coast, the setting for all the events described. Fast-forward a few months and, after the reminder in the form of an Amazon link, I was back on the hunt for the elusive movie (and by “hunt” I mean I Netflix-ed that Shiite on the quick).

A word about Netflix before proceeding: Awesome.

Okay, so anyways, back to the movie.  Just kidding, I’m not finished talking about Netflix yet.  When have you ever known me to stick with less than one hundred words when one would suffice?  Could I possibly be compensating for something?  Of course!  I use my literary prowess to make up for the fact that my penis-stomach combo would both charitably and journalistically be described as “two and a half inches below the fold”.

Netflix.  I had never been a Netflix subscriber, always preferring to go with Blockbuster Online so I could use the online queue for movies like Raging Bull and Twelve Angry Men, then exchanged them unopened for whatever vampire karate master without fear of bad guys or unprotected sex flick would catch my eye while roaming around the aisles of the store. I canceled my subscription for two reasons: (1) Netflix is faster (both in the delivery of movies and in their availability, and (2) Netflix has an Instant Watch feature.

If Blockbuster isn’t already doing streaming movies then they have a Beta version in development because it is truly the wave of the future.  Mark it down kids; the replacement for Blue Ray in the coming years won’t be a tangible object, but streaming high definition movies coming wirelessly over complete “entertainment consoles”, the more family friendly Xbox 720 and Playstation 4.  America based Microsoft and Japan based Sony will fight for control over your living room before eventually waging war for domination of the planet.  It will be the end of days complete with Christ’s return to earth and mankind’s subsequent dismissal of His message because the Sermon on the Mount, at two hours long, last approximately one hour and fifty-five minute longer than our collective attention span; and that’s without commercials.

But for now, we’re just going to stick with talking about the Instant Watch feature.  You login and click on a tab and are given a list of movies (many of which are fairly old and crappy) further divided by genre, and a scroll over produces ratings by other users.  The best part about this for me is the documentary section.  If you are a documentary fan there is a ton of different choices, the seven or so I have watched have been pretty good.  The same thing goes for TV shows.  Sure there isn’t an incredible selection yet (more coming every week), but how can you beat every episode of Heroes, Lost, South Park, The Office, Monty Python’s Flying Circus, and Friday Night Lights with no commercials in high quality?  All this AND movies coming in the mail?  All this for $8.99 a month, are you kidding me?  (Author’s Note: I know those were hypothetical but, just to clarify: No, you can’t beat it.  Yes, movies still come in the mail.  No, I’m super cereal.)

Okay, for real for real, back to the movie: it was made by a white guy.  No, seriously.  This white surfer dude went out into the ghettos of LA and interviewed gang members about their lives and what belonging to a gang really means. The good news is that the dude is Stacy Peralta, director of two excellent documentaries called Dogtown and Z-Boys (skateboarding) and Riding Giants (surfing), so the flick has good pedigree.  But, as we saw with the second half of The Invention of Lying, a great premise can be in great hands and still fail on a massive level.  So, does Made In America blow other gang documentaries out of the water or does it just blow?

The answer lies somewhere in between.  True to the title, what we are given is essentially a history lesson of gangs on the west coast, illustrating how conditions that were uniquely American created a brand of black on black violence that is singularly terrifying. Potentially the most shocking image you see can be found in the trailer to the film when the distances between South Central Los Angeles and landmarks such as Disneyworld and Hollywood are presented. 

For some reason these horrific conditions of poverty and addiction are able to occur unabated right on the doorstep of the liberal elite who would take any opportunity to draw attention to the plight of starving Africans.  Once the “hyphen Americans” is added on to the end however, that need to intervene, to save, suddenly disappears.  There isn’t the same sexiness to helping those who we as the majority culture view as harming themselves (see homelessness, addiction, impoverished, etc.).

Sorry for the little anti-liberal, liberal rant.  During this history lesson we are treated to a multitude of photographs from throughout the area’s history, but generally focusing in on the rioting at Watts in 1965 and onward.  The most interesting part of the process to me was the discussion of the difference between the first generation of black gangs and their parents. The younger generation wanted action and change while the older members of the community had a mentality to “bite the bullet” and that oppression must be outlasted, not overthrown.

One of the things the film does very well behind all the photos and interviews is use urban music to lay down a specific mood.  The driving beats of hip-hop are not only an obvious connection with the subject matter, but they capture the syncopated spirit of Black America at a time when it finally began to take steps to get in time with its Caucasian counterpart.  The high production value is just one of the perks of having a bigger name director and a substantial (for a documentary) budget.

The only problem is, eventually the whole thing just goes overboard.  Pictures move unnecessarily and effects are thrown in when they’re just not needed, the production becomes over the top and, by extension, the focal point of the audience’s attention.  A documentary at its best zeros in on the subject and the interviewees; Made in America focuses in on how cool it is.  It at times reminded me of someone who just discovered everything Powerpoint can do and immediately goes from bare bones to dissolves between slides with applause noises and each word getting it’s own entrance.  Less is more.

All the positive notes I took down for what to write in my review are content related which I suppose means that the film had some good stuff to say (particularly about gangs seeking father figures as they were formed at a time when many of the positive black role models were either murdered or put in prison).  If I write about them now though, you’d have no reason to watch the actual movie, and since you’re going to sign up for Netflix anyways you might as well give it a look-see.

Be prepared though because we haven’t even talked about the worst part of the whole thing: it is incredibly biased.  Sure, documentaries take a stance and present visual and anecdotal evidence towards that end, but they generally try not to leave glaring holes. Michael Moore for example, is the greatest filmmaker currently creating documentaries.  Sure, a lot of what he has to say is complete horse-hockey, but that matters a hell of a lot less than the way in which he says it. Ken Burns might document every minute detail, but Moore creates a film, both engrossing AND entertaining that leaves viewers taking his side because he covers his tracks by making sure everyone who doesn’t agree with him is presented as a moron.

Stacy Peralta has not covered his tracks in this movie, and what we’re left with is a piece that presents a soft look at the evolution of the modern gang rather than anything resembling hard facts.  Gang members began carrying guns in their book bags so they could feel safe going to and from school?  Come on, dude.  They also carry guns so that they can kill each other at an alarming rate that, were it called “bullet flu” would send entire country into a frenzy. It’s not that gang members can’t be sympathetic characters (Michael from The Wire), many of them have stories of incredible hardship to which the average person can never relate, it’s that they are sinners first, saints underneath, if at all.

The directors previous two documentaries that were mentioned before both presented a window into a culture outside of the mainstream in surfers and skaters. While gangs certainly exist outside of the mainstream, they are something altogether different and have to be treated accordingly.  Surfers don’t kill because someone who has been in the water longer tells them to and skaters don’t watch their friends get mowed down at seventeen years old and then refuse to come forward with information because some alliterative bit of nonsense (Stop Snitching) has somehow become the only commandment of their corner. 

Peralta needed to take off the kid gloves and deliver somehard-hitting questions if he wanted to elevate his work beyond a highly produced History Channel special. Unfortunately for all of us, he settled for a slap.