Mo' Better Blues movie review (1990)
Backstage in the dressing room, in scenes that feel improvised, the musicians argue about the band, its leadership, its direction, and even the romantic preferences of its members. One sideman has a white girl friend, and the others argue the pros and cons of that until he tells them it's none of their business. In this film, as in Lee's three earlier films, questions involving race are a good deal more sophisticated and complicated than the simplistic formulas from earlier decades.
At the center of everything stands Bleek, who in some ways resembles the heroine of Lee's first film, "She's Gotta Have It." That was about a woman who kept three guys on the line because she didn't want any one of them to feel he possessed her. This time, it's Bleek who tries to juggle the two women -- but he's representing irresponsibility, not independence. And there's a suggestion of a theme from "School Daze," in which Lee examined subtle value systems within the black community, based on the relative lightness of skin tone: Clarke has "whiter" features than Indigo, and that may go into Bleek's emotional quandary, too. Clarke represents a superficial ideal of beauty as portrayed in the media, even though the darker Indigo is clearly the woman he should choose.
Lee has said he doesn't do "push-button" movies, and indeed "Mo' Better Blues" completely avoids the central cliche in almost all musical biopics. After Bleek gets into real trouble and can't play for a year, he walks into a night club to make his comeback, and we settle back for the obligatory scene in which he makes his triumphant return. But that's not the way things work out.
Lee avoids the usual formulas in that scene only to surprise us again, with an epilogue which mirrors the prologue. This time, though, some years have passed, and it's Bleek's own son who is practicing the trumpet. The symmetry of this ending feels awkward, especially since there seems to be an act missing -- how did Bleek get from where he was, to where he is in the final scene?
"Mo' Better Blues" is not a supremely confident film like "Do the Right Thing," which never took a wrong step. There are scenes that seem incompletely thought-out, improvised dialog that sounds more like improvisation than dialog, and those strange narrative bookends at the top and bottom of the movie. But the film has a beauty, grace and energy all the same. Washington has been seen mostly in heavy dramatic roles ("Glory," "Cry Freedom"), and here, as in "The Mighty Quinn," shows that he is gifted at comedy and romance. Cynda Williams, in her first film, is a luminous discovery; she has a presence that seems to occupy the screen by divine right. Joie Lee, in her most important role, isn't supposed to be as flashy but succeeds in the challenge of drawing our sympathy away from the sexpot and toward the more substantial woman. And I liked Spike Lee's acting, too: He has a kind of off-center, driving energy that makes you into an accomplice even when he's marching straight for trouble. "Mo' Better Blues" is not a great film, but it's an interesting one, which is almost as rare.
