By shelz

2008 was a very good year for Lil Wayne.  Carter III sold in one day what most rappers find hard to push in a lifetime.  Then there were the Grammy awards, the magnificent reviews and the Time Magazine article that suggested he was this generations Bob Dylan (that’s after calling the Hot Boys “comically awful.”)  It’s hard to believe that was just a year ago. It’ also hard to believe that while all of these groundbreaking accomplishments were taking shape a documentary crew was following Wayne around filming his every move.  You would think with that type of access during what will probably be the high point of the career of one of the most famous rappers of all time; much of that glory would have been caught on film.  It wasn’t.  

The Carter Documentary, released earlier this week, captures a little less than a year of Wayne’s life cinema verite style with the film revolving around the release and subsequent meteoric rise of The Carter III.  Minus a few brief moments with Baby, Cortez Bryant and Wayne’s daughter, the film is nothing but Wayne.  Wayne on stage.  Wayne at interviews.  Wayne on the tour bus. Wayne in the studio. And Wayne either high, getting high, or talking about getting high.

The producer of the film, Quincy Jones III, suggested the film was not a typical documentary.  That the crew were flies on the wall, never hosting interviews, never interjecting anything into the story that unfolded in front of them.  However, when you take 8-10 months of footage just to boil it down to 80 minutes, you can still make that story say almost anything you want.  And what this film ultimately says about Wayne is that he is a chronic user.

The syrup and the weed are the co-stars of this film.  They play Bonnie to Wayne’s Clyde. Wayne’s work ethic doesn’t seem to be affected, but he appears almost oblivious to the business side of his success.  Wayne constructs songs, bars and metaphors.  The industry rigmarole is left to others. That is normal, but what’s not normal is Wayne seems content on not listening to anyone.   Photo ops and media events are missed. Some reporters lucky enough to catch Wayne are dismissed angrily or told their questions are stupid. And almost all of them encounter an interviewee with a Styrofoam cup in one hand and a joint in the other.

The flow of the documentary is at times startling.  There is a scene where Wayne comically recalls his first blow job at the hands…err..umm..well, lips of an older woman. He was 11 years old.  The room was packed and obviously the lady involved was being passed around like a blunt.  Wayne tells this story in mixed company eliciting laughter from the ladies in the room as well as the gents as he explains to one of his youngest Young Money brethren that this type of behavior will be expected of him.  He tips his signature Styrofoam cup up and takes a few sips.  Then the very next shot you see is a close up of his young daughters face. 

In another instance, “Me and My Drank” plays as the film makers take a snippet of Wayne in the studio, slow it down, fuzzy it up to give a visual interpretation of the the sizzurp experience just to again flash back to Wayne’s daughter.  She holds a painting that was sent to Wayne by an incarcerated fan and the producers ask her, “What’s the best present your dad ever gave you?” Her response? Him being here. Her face then morphs from a wide smile to melancholy. In 8-10 months of following him around, they never managed once to film them together.

Then there is Cortez Bryant, Wayne’s childhood friend and DJ who speaks on the drug use.  He says he found it hard to watch Wayne spiral into addiction and refused to take a front row seat any longer. He claims he spoke with Wayne about getting help.  Wayne’s response was the infamous onstage tirade during which he threw his jacket at the DJ stand.   

The producers of this film had an incredible vantage point from which to record history and they chose not to do that.  There is a shot of Wayne finding out about his album going platinum and footage of him recording, but mainly what they presented was an inebriated man whose conversation is so sloshed his words required sub-titles. I’m not suggesting the film isn’t fair.  They caught what they caught, but the film is crafted in a way that muddies Wayne’s triumphant accomplishment, and that makes him a tragic character.

Mr. Jones said that Wayne was “ecstatic” when he viewed the final cut for the first time and has no idea why he pulled his support at the last minute.  I honestly can’t fathom why the producer doesn’t understand.  Wayne is depicted as a drug addict workaholic whose daughter sits continents away pining for his presence.  It’s not the best image to portray even if it is true.

Out of 5

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