Travis Leamons // Film Critic
Rated R, 122 min.
Director: Juel Taylor
Cast: John Boyega, Teyonah Parris, and Jamie Foxx
Maybe it’s because I’m a card-carrying member of Generation X and have grown tired of the long-running notion of a more perfect union. But it’s hard to believe what we see and hear daily. Diametrically opposed agendas aimed at keeping us divided instead of whole. With the hive mind always buzzing and dispelling the notion of a separate but equal society, how long before the cabal of control stops? Eventually, a society built on authority begins to crack. The marginalized wake up from their long slumber and the illusion vanishes.
Juel Taylor’s THEY CLONED TYRONE takes aim at this conceit by using the inequities of the Black experience, speculative science-fiction and 1970s paranoia to deliver an impressively solid debut that smashes genres while offering a satirical wink at class commentary inside a conspiratorial Scooby-Doo mystery.
“A pimp, a whore and a drug dealer walk into a bar….” should be the start of a bad joke. Actually, they become unlikely detectives. John Boyega leads the triumvirate as Fontaine, a drug kingpin in a small, lost-in-time place called the Glen. Picture an urban manifestation of Westworld. It’s a town where residents wear vintage ‘70s clothing but carry flip phones. They watch TV on boxy CRT televisions and eat at restaurants with an overwhelming ‘80s aesthetic. Everything has been carefully curated to operate in specific ways. Days are predictable. Fontaine’s routine consists of bench pressing weight in the morning, patrolling his turf during the day, and shaking down clients who fail to pay their debts at night. When a rival threatens to kill him and carries it out in a parking lot shoot-out, Fontaine wakes up the next morning surprised. Did he actually meet his demise or was it all a nightmare?
To answer the question, he visits the persons who last saw him alive: Slick Charles (Jamie Foxx), a pimp of former distinction, and Yo-Yo (Teyonah Parris), one of Slick’s employees. The search for answers leads to new questions. When they find their way into a trap house containing a secret laboratory, they soon discover a white lab tech with an afro, some suspicious white powder, and Fontaine’s dead body. Further snooping by the amateur detectives stirs up a scheme affecting the entire Glen community, and everyone is totally oblivious.
Taylor, who co-wrote the script with Tony Rettenmaier, makes us laugh through bizarre occurrences while allowing the story’s commentary to sink in. The more outrageous the story’s directions, the more penetrating the issues become. I liken the enterprise to an amalgam of Boots Riley (writer-director of SORRY TO BOTHER YOU) crafting a Scooby-Doo mystery where the person hiding behind a mask is not some villain-of-the-week crying foul when some meddlesome colored folks disrupt his plans.
Fontaine’s “death” and return to life acts as an inverse Groundhog Day. He has no memory of what happened the day prior, while Slick Charles is certain Fontaine was dead to rights after being shot so many times. But rather than give time to try to explain the unexplainable, Taylor moves full speed ahead with the mystery. The three Nancy Drew their way through an investigation that takes them to various gathering spots in the Glen, including a “Got Damn” chicken restaurant, a hair salon, and a Mt. Zion church – where parishioners are served “grape drink,” which, after consumed, makes them irresponsible with their money as the collection plate nears.
The conspiracy at the center of THEY CLONED TYRONE is not complicated, but it is very involving. Not too complex to lose the audience, however. Just enough to warrant discussion. The real treat is how Taylor and Rettenmaier are able to marriage the past and present. From clothes, cars, and coded humor, this satire is quite the balancing act.
John Boyega, who broke out with Joe Cornish’s 2011 alien invasion pic ATTACK OF THE BLOCK, is solid in a feature that is every bit as fresh and fun. He plays everything straight allowing Foxx’s pimp character to be so hammy and slick he has to lick his fingers afterwards. His rapid-fire delivery and interactions with Parris’ Yo-Yo (who he calls “Black Nancy Drew”) are a delight.
My only real complaint is pacing. It moves at a fast clip until transitioning out of the second act. Taylor padding the run time to two hours saps the dynamic energy, leading to a sluggish conclusion. Nevertheless, TYRONE uses different genres and motifs to great effect in taking audiences on an unusual ride where the endgame exposes the hypocrisy of living a trapped existence where we, the audience, are left to laugh to cut through the despair.
Grade: B
