Field Niggas

On first viewing, I struggled a decent amount while watching this beautifully shot, somewhat experimental documentary. Enthralling at first, I ultimately found it's style a bit repetitive and limiting; slow motion photography of people found at the still very rough corner of 125th and Lexington in Manhattan in the middle of the night, combined with voice overs telling stories that may or may not be the stories of the faces we're seeing. I also had a hard time with the way film-maker Allah starts injecting himself more and more as the film goes on, ultimately giving some pretty literal speeches about his themes of love and unity – speeches that feel a bit self-serving (or at least self-aggrandizing) and also very out of tune with the enigmatic, open ended feeling the film has worked so hard to create. I I was haunted enough to be willing to give it another look. And on 2nd viewing, while I had basically the same likes and dislikes, I found the overall worked a little better, felt more cohesive. This is filmmaking as outsider art, but there's beauty and intelligence amidst the flaws.

Khalik Allah's documentary film capturing Harlem street-life in 2014 is much unlike any other film made prior. It's form isn't based upon a pre-defined genre, but instead does what is best for the subject it is capturing. Due to this, it becomes almost impossible to judge for typical film standards and elements, and is more akin to an art project than an actual movie. Allah breaks film down to it's 2 most essential components: video and audio, and keeps them reletively simple and easy to follow. The audio is usually just the subjects' speeches, recorded off the street but lacking the usual background street noises or chatter. Along with this plays the faint sound of what I assume to be African field chants, appearing in only a few segments before fading away. The video is slowed down heavily, only at normal speed for probably less than 10 seconds out of the full hour. It is also shot with an incredibly shallow depth of field, constantly moving focus, and handheld camera. The effect of both the visual and aural aspects is a movie that feels both completely authentic and completely ethereal. The fast moving street talk is juxtaposed with the sedated visuals in a way that mimics his idea of looking beneath the surface characters to see what wisdom they keep inside.

Khalik Allah's documentary film capturing Harlem street-life in 2014 is much unlike any other film made prior. It's form isn't based upon a pre-defined genre, but instead does what is best for the subject it is capturing. Due to this, it becomes almost impossible to judge for typical film standards and elements, and is more akin to an art project than an actual movie. Allah breaks film down to it's 2 most essential components: video and audio, and keeps them reletively simple and easy to follow. The audio is usually just the subjects' speeches, recorded off the street but lacking the usual background street noises or chatter. Along with this plays the faint sound of what I assume to be African field chants, appearing in only a few segments before fading away. The video is slowed down heavily, only at normal speed for probably less than 10 seconds out of the full hour. It is also shot with an incredibly shallow depth of field, constantly moving focus, and handheld camera. The effect of both the visual and aural aspects is a movie that feels both completely authentic and completely ethereal. The fast moving street talk is juxtaposed with the sedated visuals in a way that mimics his idea of looking beneath the surface characters to see what wisdom they keep inside.

On first viewing, I struggled a decent amount while watching this beautifully shot, somewhat experimental documentary. Enthralling at first, I ultimately found it's style a bit repetitive and limiting; slow motion photography of people found at the still very rough corner of 125th and Lexington in Manhattan in the middle of the night, combined with voice overs telling stories that may or may not be the stories of the faces we're seeing. I also had a hard time with the way film-maker Allah starts injecting himself more and more as the film goes on, ultimately giving some pretty literal speeches about his themes of love and unity – speeches that feel a bit self-serving (or at least self-aggrandizing) and also very out of tune with the enigmatic, open ended feeling the film has worked so hard to create. I I was haunted enough to be willing to give it another look. And on 2nd viewing, while I had basically the same likes and dislikes, I found the overall worked a little better, felt more cohesive. This is filmmaking as outsider art, but there's beauty and intelligence amidst the flaws.