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Eminem (now 30), survivor of a wretched childhood, is angry. His outrageous, ultra violent lyrics have targeted practically everybody except blacks, since he says he never uses the N word. The many anti Ems are unlikely to be won over by Eight Mile (named after the road that divides white and black in the rapper’s native Detroit).
But the fair minded will have to concede the guy is riveting in his carefully constructed first movie, a semi autobiographical tale (shot in derelict Detroit locations) that wants to be a kind of hip hop Rocky. It helps educate the uninformed, not only about Eminem’s impoverished roots, but also about the basic cultural functions of rap.
The music (the beat, the rhyming) works in the streets as a sublimated form of hostility against whatever you got (girlfriends, relatives, rivals, cops, bosses). Em’s “Rabbit” Smith, self described “white trash” who lives in a trailer with his baby sister, dissolute mom (Kim Basinger) and her brutal boyfriend, has a talent for it.
His grim home life, and un Em like kindness to the little girl and others (including a gay co-worker), earn him sympathy. He’s soft also in a romantic sexual fling with a soul mate (Brittany Murphy). More convincingly, he’s bonded with a closely knit entourage of mostly black pals who encourage him to enter local rap contests (a verbal equivalent to boxing). “Once they hear you,” they tell him, “it won’t matter what color you are.”
Personally, I prefer Tony Bennett, but that’s another story. A rap film can’t be made without uncouth language also much fighting and stupid juvenile behavior otherwise, well above average in reality and power; for mature viewers only.
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