You may not see it in Oscar lists or on the IMDb top 250, where films like Schindler’s List or Pulp Fiction dominate what most understand to be the pinnacle of nineties cinema, but the evolution of African American filmmaking was far and away the biggest mover and shaker of the decade. You had the emergence and refinement of some pretty amazing black storytellers including Spike Lee, John Singleton, the Hughes brothers and F. Gary Grey. Okay, kidding about that last one. But here you had virtually a new way of looking at class struggle, with hard hitting inner-city dramas that finally did away with the cool caricatures of blaxploitation cinema. It was a weighty new realm for expression, and these filmmakers forced audiences to take black cinema seriously (even if there’d been fringe filmmakers like Charles Burnett and Gordon Parks doing it before). Maybe too seriously, though.
In the midst of all the harsh pistol wielding tragedy of your South Centrals and your Menace II Societys, there was a smaller, friendlier bit of black cinema on the emerge as well. Reginald Hudlin turned a Harvard dissertation into a light, fun and surprisingly observant little New Line film called House Party, which became a sleeper hit in 1990. The film offered a refreshing look at black youth, removing the guns, crime and harsh language that had characterized black cinema, instead offering up a couple cool, collected spokesmen for a reformed depiction of African American culture. Kid’n Play, as they’d affectionately be known, was the duo of Christopher “Kid” Reid and Christopher “Play” Martin. One with big hair and the other with big attitude, they proved to be quite the cinematic duo, headlining three House Party films until finally handing the genre over to IMX et al. for the fourth. Outside of the House Party flicks, though, you certainly don’t hear much about Kid’n Play, but before they relinquished the limelight, they gave it one more kick with the rollicking Class Act.
The film is a modern spin on The Prince and the Pauper, having the genius, big haired scholar, Duncan Pinderhughes (Kid) getting his high school transcripts mixed up with juvenile felon with the gold tooth, Blade Brown (Play). Brown forces Duncan to play along, recognizing the opportunity he has in getting better grades and out of juvee. Duncan nebbishly accepts, because hey, he could use a little help in gym class, too. The swapped identities create more than just mix ups in their marks – suddenly they’re having to play up stereotypes to keep up appearances. Duncan needs to spot a gold tooth, ditch the high-top doo, dress with flash and even kick some ass. Blade’s also entrusted Duncan with Lucille, his fully hydraulic pimp mobile. On the flipside, Blade must put pencil to paper to work hard in class and win the affection of classmate Ellen (Fresh Prince’s gorgeous Karyn Parsons)…but he won’t wear Duncan’s JC Penny digs. Duncan also finds some love in Damita (Alysia Rogers, her only other credit other than Boyz N the Hood), but she was previously with a drug pusher named Wedge…and he’s no doorstop!
The harmless swap of identities soon escalates to shootouts, car chases, jail time and even a knowledge bowl. Of course, Kid’n Play manage to find time for a little rap off (this time out of the house and at a high school drug rally) and a whole lot of fun. Along the way they’ll also run into some pretty major nineties fixtures like sidekick Doug E. Doug (Dr. Giggles, Cool Runnings), flirty teacher Rhea Perlman (Cheers), sassy mom Loretta Divine (Urban Legend, Waiting to Exhale) and the one and only Pauly Shore (Encino Man, Son-in-Law) who basically plays himself as the organizer for the rap off drug rally. Along with the cast of pop culture particulars, there is also a dynamic soundtrack filled with some of the decade’s best dance and R&B music, including Black Box, Art of Noise, Monie Love, Jade and LL Cool J, cementing the film as one of those seminal cultural artifacts. Hell, there’s even a chase scene set to “U Can’t Touch This”.
Class Act is a breezy, lovable little movie and it's more than just the music and the cameos. Behind it is a pretty accomplished bunch of artists. Nobody watches these kind of movies for the cinematography, but the celebrated Francis Kenny (behind the stylish Heathers and New Jack City) really injects the film with a visual energy, whether it’s a tracking POV of a football falling out of the air into Kid’s shaky hands to some humorous fast motion antics or dolly moves. While he’s by no means Kenny’s equal, director Randall Miller (cousin of Rhea Perlman, which explains the cameo) himself had a fun little run in the nineties, with endearing comedies like Sinbad’s Houseguest and The Sixth Man (curiously also written by a one Christopher Reed) to his credit. The editing, which at times has a kinetic, western-influenced use of special relations, was done by genre vet John Burnett (Grease, …And Justice For All, The Way We Were) and stands as his final film credit. Michael Swerdlick gets credit as head writer (among the four other that are credited), and the similarities between this and his eighties favorite Can’t Buy Me Love are certainly many. Both expunge a positive message about being comfortable with who you are outside of class, race and other labels, while at the same time progressively proposing that being someone you’re not may actually help you become someone even better.
What makes the film are not these lessons on morality, though, it’s the cool, natural interplay and unabashed charisma between the leads. Kid’n Play definitely deserve that singular moniker, because the two are yin and yang on screen. Kid’s affable with a quiet skill at comic timing, while Play can empower any line of dialogue with an authoritative edge. Together they ignite, and of all their films, this one gives them the most time together in scenarios other than just being themselves or making music. At a time when black figures needed to have inner-city edge, this fine pair demonstrates that sometimes just a positive will to entertain can be just as impactful as donning a .45 in east LA. Forget 2pac; that Kid’n Play never had a career after this is truly one of the grand casualties of the nineties.
Class Act is a cute and cool little movie. It exudes fun, thanks to the chemistry of the leads and the quality of the who’s who of nineties supporting players and music, and even has a few pointed cultural insights along the way. Remember, this is Kid’n Play we’re talking about, the masters of weaving positive youth messages in a light, playful style. As a kid, this was a movie my brother and I would throw in every other day, and I’m happy to say that fifteen years and a new video format later, the movie still holds up. It’s the perfect blend of goofy humor and biting high school satire. To quote Duncan when trying to find the past participle of Blade’s “You Dig?” question…“I dug”. This movie rocks.presentation...
I never saw this in theaters, but I sure did run the VHS I had of a taped broadcast from Super Channel into the ground. I’m thankful to say that now it can finally be retired – the film has been gloriously restored in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen for this Warner Archive DVD. The print is impeccably clean and fairly vibrant with all those loud, early-nineties colors and styles. There is some light grain throughout, and the picture does have a certain softness to it. Still, for a film that’s generally been distributed via pan and scan VHS, it’s pretty eye opening to see Francis Kenny’s full widescreen compositions in such clean and accurate fashion.
The audio is likewise preserved in a Dolby Stereo Surround 2.0 track, and while it’s not as catching as the video, it’s equally as clean. The sound is all there without any hiss, pops or crackles, although at times it might be a bit too clean, exposing a few poorly mixed ADR line additions. Still, all that great music comes through boisterous, although imagine how it would have sounded in full 5.1. Once can dream.extras...
Warner Archive discs are made on demand on high quality DVD+R media, so usually the film, a label and a case is all you get. It’s a nice surprise, then, to find the theatrical trailer for the film, which features some playful preview-specific banter between the pop duo. It’s presented open matte (which exposes some of the set during the dance scene) and pretty soft, but again, a great addition. If there’s anything that is required on a DVD release it’s a trailer – more than a marketing tool, they often hold a big part in defining the film itself. Hopefully Warner has realized that and when possible will include them on future Archive discs.rap-ping it up...
Class Act was the first Kid’n Play vehicle post-House Party, and inexplicably it would also be their last. It’s a pretty loveable movie with a cast of memorable nineties film and TV stars, a soundtrack full of great dance music and a story that’s more clever than the misleading Porky’s-influenced cover would have you believe. All the elements combine for one of the quintessential films that defined the nineties, and it’s certainly a lot lighter, and even more progressive, than all those black, urban boyz dramas. It’s a shame the film has been all but forgotten, but thankfully Warner is giving fans a chance to check it out once more exclusively through their Warner Archive site. It looks and sounds good, and even has a trailer, so fans of the “hip-hop Laurel and Hardy” (if only they had that kind of longevity!) need give this kid a play! | overall... Content: B+ Video: B- Audio: B- Extras: D Final Grade: B |
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