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With this in mind, I suspect that Drumline may be the most dangerous movie to come down the pike since, oh, Birth of a Nation. The implications of this trailer terrify me. From what I can tell, the premise is something along the lines of Bring it On, that movie where the rival cheerleading squads were competing for something besides a Most Lip Gloss Used in a Year award. That movie's existence I could understand, as one can find cheerleading competitions on ESPN during those slow sports months (read: baseball season). At least cheerleading has some exposure, and from what I've seen -- er, heard -- it seems to be pretty fiercely competitive, given what it is. But a movie where the marching band is cool? Where the tagline is "Half Time is Game Time," flying in the face of conventional logic that the time when the game happens is game time? Where marching band members actually go to parties, and D&D pewter figurines are nowhere to be seen? This, to me, requests a greater suspension of disbelief than I'm capable of mustering without the help of hard drugs. The most frightening aspect to a film like Drumline is the evidence of exceptional special effects at play here, as evidenced by the trailer's ability to make these situations appear wholly realistic. This will no doubt create some serious problems with any teens lured into band by the trailer's deceptive, lie-riddled premise. Forget about kids imitating stunts they saw in Jackass, joining gangs like those they saw in Colors, not trusting our honorable elected officials after seeing JFK, or even spying on showering teens like in Porky's; does anyone actually want legions of kids across the country coerced into joining marching bands? What's perhaps scariest is how effective the trailer is in promoting its deceptive premise. It not only makes the concept look realistic -- it tricks you into believing the movie itself might be entertaining (another pleasantly unrealistic fiction, I imagine). Drumline introduces us to a college called Atlanta A&T (I'm sure there will be no jokes involving those letters being switched) and a defiant young rule-breaker named Devon Miles (played by the old guy from Knight Rider, if his name is any indication). The plays-by-his-own-rules hellion Devon quickly shakes the marching band from their old ways with his fresh, dope, hip-hop-a-happenin' drum-hitting style. Along the way he also hooks up with a girl from the cheerleading squad (I'll get to this later), survives marching band boot-camp (ditto), gets kicked out of the squad in disgrace, then comes back at the last second, taking his school to the championship (!?) of marching bandom.
(I also really liked the concept of marching band boot-camp. At my old school, the marching band was pretty fat and more than a little greasy. A few weeks of laps and sit-ups would have done them a world of good.) So, Drumline looks like a must-see at your local cineplex. And yet, one suspects that the best way to watch it might actually be to wait until it's on video, then pick some weekend to rent it along with the similarly themed Remember The Titans. Watch half of Titans, then stop and watch Drumline -- then after halftime, finish watching the first movie. Sure, you might think you could just watch Sunday afternoon college football and get the same experience for free. But look at the story you get this way: Denzel Washington whips a cadre of ne'er-do-wells into shape, before being cast out by weedy usurper Orlando Jones (embittered by the failure of his own marginal football career in The Replacements), who manipulates the football squad into taking up band. Then, when all is lost, Denzel returns from exile to sway them back to the righteous path of football instead of parading around like a bunch of nancies with tubas. Tell me that’s not an epic. No matter how you choose to view it, though, the expectations Drumline sets up will make for a huge disappointment to any teen who gets ensnared in a marching band by watching it. Who, Mr. Filmmaker, is going to apologize to these poor kids when they discover that there are no boozy parties? Who will console them when they get hit with the shocking truth that the only way they'll find cheerleaders on top of them is if their buses happen to have a horrific collision (ah, dreams)? What happens when their delusions of playing drums to large stadiums meet the harsh reality that most fans are there to see the game, and spend half-time in the beer line, or in the bathroom pinching off processed giant pretzels? What happens when they play a drum rhythm and don't get a hip-hop soundtrack blasting in the background to make it sound cool, like the hero of Drumline? What then, Mr. Filmmaker? Hmm. Well, conceivably they'll just turn to sports, shopping, drugs, Wicca or Tolkien, like they would have anyway, I suppose. Forget I mentioned it.
RATING:
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Movies
are a powerful medium. I realized this at a young age, when I found
myself wanting to imitate the heroes of movies I'd just seen. After
Star Wars, I wanted to be a Jedi. After Caddyshack, I
wanted to play golf. After Karate Kid, I wanted to jump around
and beat people up (incidentally, if Karate Kid was made with
the intent that children run out and beat people up as successfully
as a real-life Ralph Macchio, then mission accomplished, as far as my
experiences were concerned). After Summer Rental I even briefly
entertained an urge to learn how to sail; I chalk that one up more to
the charisma of the late John Candy than the lure of actual sailing.
In
other words, the trailer gives the whole freaking plot away. But it
doesn't seem to matter much. I'll wager this movie wasn't planning to
steal viewers from the next Memento or Mulholland Drive.
Judging by the trailer and the long list of stars on the soundtrack,
this movie's all about the music. In this respect, the film pays off
huge, with the normally tinny and tired marching band music supported
by elements of hip-hop rhythm, making for a very solid combination.
My white-boy, classical music-loving foot was tapping away, and I even
briefly bemoaned the fact that I played a real instrument rather than
euphonium. And for those who don't care for music, there are entire
truckloads of cheerleaders.