Spider-Man: Across the Spider-verse

Whenever There's a Gang-Up/You'll Find the Spider-Man/Woman/Thing/Concept

or

Every Spider-Thing Everywhere All at Once

At the end of Spider-Man: Across the Spider-verse, I imagined a camera floating up to the theater-rafters, while I looked heavenward, my hands gripped into fists and screaming: "Noooooooooooo!"

It didn't come out of nowhere. During the last 45 minutes of the film (it's 2 hours, 20 minutes), I felt a mild panic coming on; the movie didn't feel like it was rounding third and starting to wrap things up—if anything, it was getting MORE complicated without any impending resolution. The reason? There isn't one. The movie ends with a terrible situation for hero Miles Morales (Shameik Moore), who's left beside himself, and the formation of a new Spider-group to save the day—led by Gwen Stacy (Hailee Steinfeld)—and another group—led by Spider-man 2099 (Oscar Isaac) hunting him with the intent to...well, I don't know what their intent is, but the very presence of Miles Morales and the events from the previous film put everything (and I mean everything) in danger. 

 

Then there's a "To Be Continued" graphic.

DAMN!

My absolute love for the previous film, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-verse, is readily apparent to anyone who read that review. I still maintain that it's the best Spider-Man movie brought to the screen*, and (unfortunately) I still do.

Oh, not that this new one is bad. It still has the verve and the audacity of its eclectic visual style, its almost brilliant vision of blending-in classic comic-book traditions in its story-telling, as well as exceptional voice-acting, and at a slightly quicker pace than its predecessor (as we've come to expect the visual tricks that are second-nature in this new one). It also is very smart, thinking outside the box-frames, while also slightly dismissive of standard super-hero tropes and jabbing (lightly) at them. It knows that you can't have a Spider-man film without the shadow of soap opera looming over it and that tragedy is attracted to the character, like, well, like goofy super-villains.

So, what is the tangled web of Across the Spider-verse? It starts out with a challenging thesis statement: "Let's do things differently this time. So differently." It's Gwen Stacy, the Spider-Woman/Ghost-Spider/Spider-Gwen of alternate Earth-65, contemplating her back-story of her gifted life being over-turned by being bitten by a radio-active spider giving her spider-powers, shouldering "great responsibility," vilified by the press and the police (one of whom is her father) and how her crime-fighting career led to the death of her best friend, the brilliant student Peter Parker (Earth-65's Peter Parker). Parallel universes have pretty narrow parallels. While fighting an alternate-Universe version of the Vulture at her New York's Guggenheim Museum, she is aided by two other spider-heroes: Miquel O'Hara (Isaac)—Spider-man 2099 of Earth-928 and Jessica Drew (Issa Rae), the Spider-woman of Earth-616. O'Hara is in charge of an elite corps, the "Spider-society" whose mandate is to keep a stable multi-verse. With me so far? Good, let's go to Earth-1610.

Earth-1610 is where "The Ultimate" Spider-man, Miles Morales, lives. It's been a year since the events of Into the Spider-verse, and the experience has changed him. He's an established Spider-man in his New York—even the police (including Miles' father) like him. He is the epitome of a friendly, neighborhood Spider-man, but his folks—despite his high grades at school—think he's a bit of a flake and are worried about him and his future. For example, he's late for everything, his attendance in class is kind of spotty despite the high grades, and they're really thinking about whether he should move home rather than applying for that big fancy New Jersey college to learn about particle physics. They want him to be more "grounded"—and he does get grounded in ever-increasing amounts throughout the movie.

And speaking of "spotty" there's a weird new super-villain in town. He's Dr. Jonathon Ohnn (Jason Schwartzman), who got caught up in the big particle accelerator/collider explosion of Into the Spider-verse and has turned into a being who can create holes—or "spots"—in space in order to transport himself to other locations on Earth-1610. Spidey encounters him trying to transport an ATM from a convenience store while on his way to his college evaluation with his folks and leads Miles on a "holey" confusing and disorienting fight throughout New York-1610 before making one trip to many and transporting him self to a "void"—let's call it "The Holy Sea" like in Yellow Submarine—where he plots his escape by using another collider to increase his powers across space...and other dimensions.

Such a being can be quite a disruption to the fabric of time and space, so the "Spider-Society" recruits Spider-Gwen to travel to Earth-1610 to track this "Spot" guy and capture him before he can do any significant damage. Gwen (rather unwisely) shirks her duties as "spot-remover" to set up some automatic detector-gizmo, and instead goes to see the neighborhood Spider-man, whom she knows is "friendly." As Miles and Gwen have feelings for each other that haven't been awkwardly expressed yet, it's a "best of/worst of both worlds" parallel universe situation.

Well, Gwen's negligence causes an emergency and Jessica Drew contacts her to get her spider-self to Earth-50101—and the island of Mumbattan—where Spider-man Pavitr Prabhakar (Karan Soni) and the Spider-Punk Hobie Brown (Daniel Kaluuya) have their hands full while The Spot successfully increases his powers with that Earth's particle accelerator. Unbeknownst to Gwen, Miles hitches a ride on her dimensional transport.

So, how are you doing so far? Head hurt a little? Getting a little tough to tell Spider-person from Spider-person and Earth from Earth? Okay, I'm going easy on you, because here's where it gets really difficult to parse: Miles' transport-hitching causes an anomaly, as he saves an important personage who would have died if he wasn't there, and that created something called a "Canon Alert" (which I found hysterical) over at Earth-928 with the "Spider-League".

Miles disrupted a key event that's supposed to happen to every Spider-man—a personal loss that will define their character—and poor Spider-India is set on a parallel track that is essential for every Spider-man story (and apparently they can't just go rogue and kill Pavitr's Aunt Maalai (or whatever) in order to set the trajectory right. This is not good, and it gets worse...and more complicated.

But, I'll spare you, and not spoil anything else. Believe me, there are a load of surprises in Across the Spider-verse from cameos and funny details to just the whole concept of the thing that takes a lot of Into the Spider-verse and re-weaves its web into something quite beyond the standard Spider-fare...although I do suspect that Miles is going to have a "Spider-man No More" moment (but against his will this time). I mean...it's "canon!"

That whole "Canon Alert" concept is just mind-bogglingly funny (even if it's treated so seriously). There are certain comic-book stories and ideas that creators just don't touch because they are "canon"—Krypton exploded (you can't bring it back), Bruce Wayne's parents were shot in an alley (you can't say "just a flesh wound"), and Uncle Ben and Gwen Stacy have to die...and stay dead. Oh, they can be "cloned" (when the comic publishers get desperate), but you can't have Peter Parker (or what-Spider-ever) wake up one day, hold his aching head and go "it was all just a horrible dream" and go have a breakfast of Uncle Ben's converted rice. After all, these things take place in Manhattan, not "Dallas."

But, as you can tell, this thing is complicated. In fact, it's so complicated, it's almost an assault, and when you add in the creators' visual dynamism, their tendency to throw a joke into every dead space, and general pace of the thing, your brain could approach synaptic anarchy. It might have to contain a warning—not the "flashing lights" one, but the "do not see while pregnant" "may cause seizures" "do not see if allergic to spiders" warnings on TV (or movie, for that matter) pharmaceutical commercials.

I'm just saying that the experience is in-to-the-tense, and not for the faint of heart or the faint of sight. It is a certainty that one is going to miss a lot on the first viewing in a theater, and although it sounds heretical for me to say, I think that both Across the Spider-verse and its predecessor are more intended (by their creators) for repeat-viewing by disc or streaming than in the theater (although one can't discount the level of detail that can one can appreciate in the massive viewing experience**). I say that reluctantly, as I think the theater experience for watching a film can't be topped, despite noisy neighbors, restless kids, and rattling food-wrappers.***

So...I say "go." Guardedly. Just don't come back in the comments section blaming me for the migraine or PTS-ADHD or the adrenal jitters—or your "spidey-sense" on over-tingle—as a result of seeing this (my reaction was to crave a hamburger). Blame it on the tangled web woven by Spider-Man: Across the Spider-verse.

 

 As usual, with these animated sorts of things, I just have to share some frames from the film 

that just stuck out at me as particularly beautiful and that I didn't have room for in the text.

*...and one of the best super-hero movies ever.

 

** I saw it in XD, which was impressive, especially if one is appreciating things like the weave in Miles' Spidey-mask, or the half-tone shading of colors simulating the look of old comic-books.

*** Oh. And Maria Menounos. She really annoys me.

Nope

Yep!

or

Close Encounters of the Herd Kind
 

"Nahum 3:6: I will cast abominable filth upon you, make you vile, and make you a spectacle."

 

Jordan Peele has made you a spectacle—not of you, but for you—and like any great spectacle, sublime or tragic, you can't look away.

 

Nope is about a bunch of things—about people's need for the spectacular, and to believe anything to fulfill it, it's about instinct versus learning, about how neither one can save you when you're considered merely prey, and that Nature has its own "advantage" baked in just like a casino.

 

It's also about how we're all animals, basically, and no sophistication of the cerebral cortex can erase the fact that we're all made of meat. It's like Peele has melded Steven Spielberg's first hits Jaws and Close Encounters with their separate senses of primal terror and ecstatic wonder and smooshed them together to make one over-the-top bonkers film, one that's gorgeous to look at (lensed by Hoyte Van Hoytema) has a great, itchy score, and has enough humor and suspense to make you forget you might be watching a "message" movie. It has "bite."

In Aqua Dulce, California, The Haywood Hollywood Horses training facility squats like a dry oasis. The Haywood's are descendants of the African American jockey photographed in Eadweard Muybridge's The Horse in Motion, one of the very earliest cabinet card sets, which, in turn, was used in early zoopraxiscope presentations, making it the first motion picture projection presentation, some 12 years before Edison, and eight years before the proposals of Louis LePrince in France.

Now, the Haywood ranch is run by Otis Haywood (Keith David—you'll recognize him by his distinctive narrator's voice), who still supplies trained animals for films. One day, out with his son O.J. (Otis Jr. played by Daniel Kaluuya), Otis Sr. is killed when metal objects fall inexplicably out of the sky and he is killed by a nickel plunging through his eye and embedding in his skull. His kids, O.J. and Emerald (Keke Palmer) try to keep the ranch afloat, but it's hard going. O.J. is not the most communicative soul, dealing with horses better than people, most specifically his sister "Em" who is focusing on her own career as a writer, director, producer and less on the old horse business. 

As a result, O.J. is selling off horses to a recent nearby attraction, Jupiter's Claim, a western theme park run by Ricky "Jupe" Park (Steven Yeun), former child actor, and one of the survivors of the infamous "Gordy's Home" Incident—where, years earlier—and, for us, at the beginning of the movie—on the set of a comedy television series, a chimpanzee, startled by a popping helium balloon, viciously attacked the other performers, killing and maiming them. Ricky runs the park, but also exploits the tragedy by charging the obsessed, tours through his personal memorabilia from "The Incident".

Then, one dark and stormy night, O.J. notices that one of the horses is out of the stable, and when he investigates, sees that electricity is shutting down around the area, and a sand tornado touches ground, spooking the horse, and making it run. It's dark and all, but O.J. thinks he sees an object moving through the sky, fast, followed by an eerie sound of terror. When he comes back home, the lights are back on, but he's spooked. Something weird is going on.

Emerald hears O.J.'s story and her impulse is to get it on camera and exploit it—get "the money shot", or, better still, get "the Oprah shot"—so they head to the local Fry's (one's still open?), where their insistence on security cameras that can look UP and can operate once the grid goes down attracts the interest of one of the employees, Angel (Brandon Perea) who helps them install their systems. A conspiracy wonk, he links in to their system on their first night to get "footage" which fails, due to natural and unnatural-to-Earth interference. Another incident brings in the interest of cinematographer Antlers Holst (Michael Wincott), obsessed with obtaining "the impossible shot."

Around about here things get less speculative and more specific, but the group's attempts to record the UFO—"They're called UAP's now"—are intertwined with each participant's specialty skills: Holst's photography skills, O.J.'s training skills, Angel's ability...to be irritating, frankly, and Emerald's inability to stick to the plan. They're disparate attitudes and personalities almost makes them akin to the Pequod's crew hunting "Moby Dick." But, their prickly desert personalities all make their stake-out a multi-layered and evolving plan.

My description of thing makes it sound simple, but Peele's approach is anything but, starting with opening with that "Gordy's Home" incident—which apparently has nothing to do with the movie, except to serve as a background motivation for one of the characters. Then, he goes to that "raining metal" sequence, and jumps forward to some time later, when the ranch is having hard times. It's disorienting and you wonder if you're missing something. You're not. Peele's just building the mystery and tightening the screws, as he builds in details to explain something unexplainable (although a couple of things will never be explained). It's like he's training us.

And it works gang-busters. I defy anyone not to be peering at all points of the screen for a tell-tale sign as you peer along with the characters for a glimpse of the mystery. And that's part of the fun. Peele has, so far, at least, included the audience as part of the drama, making them co-conspirators in his manipulation games. He directs the gaze, but he also indicts the mind. Here, he's made something mesmerizing enough that we can't take our eyes off it. And, ironically, that's just the sort of thing that could doom the characters. One can almost hear Peele cackling in the background at the joke of it all. "Fools! You'd be snapped up in a minute!"

But, Nope is a step forward. Here, he's making a movie that satisfies his need for detail, but boils it down to simple concepts that are achievable (and perceivable) as visually spectacular. His last film, Us, reached for something big, but couldn't quite achieve it because the conception of it was interesting...but not awe-inspiring. Here, he goes for the Big Moments and pulls them off extraordinarily, without overwhelming the tension of the movie. Nope is a step up for a film-maker who's just exploring his abilities, while paying homage to, but not whole-sale stealing from, the movies that inspired him. Peel had me at Get Out, but I'm looking forward to his next one with even higher expectations.

Judas and the Black Messiah

99 to 1

or

Crouching Panther, Hidden Agenda

Judas and the Black Messiah is "based on a true story", which immediately sets one's Truth Squad into overdrive to see just how far afield the fiction is from reality. Such cynicism is matched, but then surpassed, when one learns that the movie is pretty much true, and that it happened very nearly exactly how it's depicted, just as the more pessimistic among us might suspect it did. One takes no joy in this, no sense of triumph that "they did it right for once," but only the despairing attitude that the truth of it is not stranger than an audience might accept (the standard trope for altering a story), but that it is altogether what they've become accustomed to accept.

That's a tellingly depressing bar to admit. But, we're a nation that excels at complacency when it's not in our immediate backyard.

Further still, the truth is actually more stunning than what is portrayed in the movie, and we'll address that fact at the end, because it weighs on the incidents like a stone, evoking feelings of amazement, pride, and shame.

Judas...tells the story of Bill O'Neill (Lakeith Stanfield, who has the toughest but least showy role in the film), a Chicago grifter, caught one night in an unsuccessful car-jacking (the incident didn't happen exactly as portrayed, as O'Neill was probably pulled over for a DWB), with a fake FBI badge on his person. It's one to two in prison for the auto theft, but five years for impersonating a federal officer, so the local FBI guy (Jesse Plemons) makes a deal: go to prison for possibly seven years, or help out the FBI and walk out free. O'Neill can only marvel at his luck, due to his lack of knowing anything about "Faust."

The devil he owes comes in the form of J. Edgar Hoover (Martin Sheen, who, despite being encased in even more makeup than Leonardo Di Caprio had to endure, is still unconvincing), who, in what should have been his gay, twilight years as head of the FBI, is seeing his black-and-white world of gangsters, racketeers and "Reds" become a bit more nuanced in the form of generations of "Boomers" becoming disenchanted with the "System," the "bread and circuses" not seeming to be enough to distract them. It runs afoul of his agency, which is comprised of white, crew-cut (and presumably straight) men in business suits—but we see them drinking on the job in their offices (would that pass Hoover's scrutiny?).His concern, right now, is black nationalist groups, like the NAACP, the SCLC, the Nation of Islam, and the Black Panthers—not only due to their threat to the white status quo, but also for relations to communist and socialist causes.*

Their target is Fred Hampton (Daniel Kaluuya), who has become the leader of the Illinois chapter of the Black Panthers, after studying pre-law and serving as a Youth Council leader of the NAACP. Naturally charismatic, a powerful speaker, and a student of revolutionary technique, Hampton began by organizing political classrooms, a civilian program for supervising police activity as well as a Free Breakfast Program. But, his biggest achievement—one which surely must not have escaped the notice of the FBI—is that he has organized what he called a "Rainbow Coalition," uniting the Panthers, the disparate Chicago street gangs, the White Southern Young Patriots Organization, and the Puerto Rican Young Lords. Nothing scares an established authority more than a united coalition of dissidents. 

The FBI will begin their own disinformation campaign to splinter the Coalition, but their ace is Bill O'Neill, who will infiltrate the Panthers, and winning the begrudging trust of Hampton, eventually become the Security Captain of the Chicago chapter. He will maintain his hustler's stance, only going so far as until his life is at risk, but even then, when the FBI puts the pressure on him between doing something he's loathe to do and spending time in prison, he will do as ordered. It's just that he has no idea the limits the FBI will go to, whereas he might feel unironically safer under the umbrella of Hampton and the Panthers.

The history is well-documented and the official record simultaneously white-washed and tainted—Hampton was killed in a raid on his apartment. At the time of the raid he was unconscious from a dose of secobarbitol, slipped into a drink by O'Neill on FBI orders. Despite his condition, Hampton did not survive the raid and died from two gunshot wounds delivered hitman style to the head. Court records would indicate that Hampton died of plausible deniability. It was a "hit", carried out by the FBI in the tradition of the gangsters they once hunted.

All this is laid out by King in as unobtrusive a way as possible, getting the details right, making his shots as if a documentary filmmaker with extraordinary access, with a cutting style that favors reaction shots and a gradual acceleration of tension. The cast is amazing: Stanfield has the wary look of someone being continually hunted; Kaluuya is always amazing to watch because his choices catch you by surprise—his Hampton is charismatic, but the way Pacino's early days as Michael Corleone are charismatic, walking into every room, surveying it, and then taking it over by sheer force of personality, even cunning; and Dominique Fishback is all knowing-eyes as Panther volunteer Deborah Johnson, who starts out questioning Hampton's rhetorical skills and ends up becoming his muse and lover. 

One fact haunts: at the time of his death, Fred Hampton was 21 years old. Bill O'Neil had been recruited at the age of 17; he was 20 at the time of Hampton's assassination. There is no other way to look at the story than as a tragedy, of potential, unused and misdirected. Of lives wasted and power corrupted.

Judas and the Black Messiah is a devastating indictment.

* But, it's also personal for the FBI's director: In one scene, one of the few featuring the FBI director that has any resonance, director King has Hoover sanctimoniously ask Plemons' agent "How would you fee-el...if your daughter brought home her black boyfriend?" The agent can only stammer back at him: "She's eight months OLD!"

Widows (2018)

A Woman Has To Be Better Than a Man
or
"What I've Learned from Men Like My Father and Harry is 'You Reap What You Sow.'"
"I Sure Hope So."

In a pre-film message to theater-goers before his film of Widows, director-co-screenwriter Steve McQueen talks about wanting to make a film of Widows since he was a kid. This might be hype on McQueen's part, but it is possible because it was originally a British TV series created by the amazing Lynda LaPlante (author of "Prime Suspect") in 1983. It spawned sequels, TV remakes, and quite the following—McQueen being one of them, who, after winning Best picture and Best Director Oscars for 12 Years a Slave, set about making his own re-do, combining the best elements of LaPlante's series, and hiring best-selling author Gillian Flynn (she wrote Gone Girl, Dark Places and Sharp Objects)—very adept at writing startling dialogue that "goes there"—and taking it out of its underworld setting and replacing it with a place where a similar forum for betrayal and criminal behavior are at their apex—the world of politics in America (specifically Chicago) circa 2018.

Does this McQueen guy have a knack for timing or what?

We start out with a sequence that traverses time and circumstance: the members of the gang led by Harry Rawlings (Liam Neeson) are seen interacting with their wives on a day of another "big job" while with every jump-cut, we see it start to go disastrously wrong. Harry canoodles with his wife Veronica (Viola Davis) as they blissfully greet the day. The Perelli's, Linda (Michelle Rodriguez) and Carlos (Manuel Garcia-Rulfo) have an argument over the financing of the shop they own together. The Gunner's, Alice (Elizabeth Debicki) and Florek (Jon Bernthal) are having breakfast together and he couldn't be sweeter, while making note of the black eye he'd given her the night before. Amanda (Carrie Coon) and Jimmy Nunn (Coburn Goss) kiss each other at the door before he leaves for his job. This is all significant.

That job goes horribly awry. As the criminals carry heavy bags of cash and throw them into the back of their van, they barely have enough time to escape before the police come. A violent chase ensues with the CPD blowing the back open of the van, leaving the criminals vulnerable to gun-fire. They manage to make it to their safe-house, but are wounded and Harry takes the wheel of the van to make their final run. But, when the garage doors opens, a SWAT team is waiting for them and riddle the vehicle with bullets until it finally explodes.

The entire team is wiped out.

Veronica wakes up, startled and alone. 

Jamahl Manning (Bryan Tyree Henry) is a Chicago crime kingpin with ambition—he's running for alderman of Chicago's south side, and he's visited by his opponent Jack Mulligan (Colin Farrell), who's come over to "keep the lines of communication open." They spar over each others' short-comings—Jamahl is a gangster and can't win; Jack Mulligan is running for the alderman job that his father (Robert Duvall) has had for many years. "Nepotism isn't illegal," Mulligan argues from both sides. The thing is, Mulligan feels the threat—not that Manning has actually threatened him—that he might not win the election that's been a Mulligan legacy. After all, both are well-known among the electorate voting for alderman—"even if they don't know what an alderman does."*

It turns out the money from the failed heist was Manning funds earmarked for Jamahl's campaign—two million dollars worth, destroyed during the final fire-fight. At Harry's funeral, Jamahl and his enforcer brother Jatemme (Daniel Kaluuya in another intense extraordinary performance**) observe the proceedings, including the younger Mulligan's condolences to the widow (what's he doing there?)

This gives Jamahl enough information to follow Veronica to her upscale condo to threaten her (and her dog—who plays a significant role) if she doesn't come up with the two million dollars lost and come up with it before the campaign is up. Where is she going to come up with two million dollars?

The secret lies with a notebook that Harry has secreted away and that Veronica acquires with the help of Harry's driver, Bash (Garret Dillahunt). In the notebook, she finds the plans for Harry's next job—a multi-million dollar heist that will solve her problems by paying back the Mannings—if she can pull it off.

But, for that, she'll need a "crew."

Who better than the wives left behind after the disastrous Manning heist? She contacts all of them and at an initial meeting in a steam-bath, only Linda and Alice show up while Veronica makes her proposal and tells them to think about it. After some soul-searching, Alice, who has desperately gone into being an escort with one particular client (Lukas Haas) and Linda decide that, if they want better lives, this is their chance, and the women begin the painstaking research and preparation to pull off the job that will save their lives.

McQueen and co-scenarist Flynn take an improbable situation and play it with a straight-faced earnestness, raising the stakes to truly scary levels of desperation that make you believe that these wives will gear up, arm themselves to the teeth and take it to "The Man" in order to right the wrongs done to them, in a world that is corrupt to the bone and dominated by males. That so much of the background is political, rather than gangland, just gives a more reliably male face to their oppressors and distances them from becoming just distaff versions of the same amorality.

They also stress the betrayal of trust among all parties. The widows have had their lives shattered by behind-the-scenes machinations that they aren't even aware of (or would believe, frankly) and it's a neat little contrivance that allows them to get their revenge and their salvations from the very same source. That it also dissolves any illusions or romanticism they might have previously had just makes their actions more empowering.

As in all the McQueen movies I've seen, the acting is always top-notch with a bit of a toss-up between Davis and Debicki of who runs away with the picture—your perception will most likely change with whoever is on-screen at the time—one can also say the same of Cynthia Erivo, who becomes the necessary fourth wheel to pull off the job. The males do a good job—to a man—of playing variations of blinkerdly self-absorption that demands to be upended.

And for those who might not "buy" the idea of a gangland criminal finding a career in politics, one can look to believable example in both fiction—in "The Godfather" story, it often stated that it was always assumed that Michael Corleone would become "Senator Corleone" or "Governor Corleone"—or reality—one can think of all sorts of real-life examples, past and present-day, of criminals as politicians, but let's be kind and not contemporary, and point to the thirty seven year career of William Bulger in the Massachusetts legislature, despite being the brother of gangster "Whitey" Bulger. A hard insider's look at both organized crime and political organizations can see parallels between corruption and power as being a heady, almost inevitable, mixture.

It's a lit match made in Hell. 

* Aldermen have several responsibilities. Depending on the municipality, aldermen meet with fellow council members monthly, twice a month or even weekly. They might also serve in emergency situations to work through issues pertaining to the area that they represent.

** There's an early scene where Jatemme confronts the two guys who were supposed to be protecting the money, but failed. Turns out they were distracting themselves by doing a rap—they're just kids. Jatemme acts as if he's interested. "Show me." Then, he takes a couple minutes watching them perform...then getting right into their faces...then gunning them down without so much as a change in expression. It's a creepy, manipulative and completely sociopathic move that jars you and Kaluuya milks it for all its worth while seemingly doing very little.