Disclaimer: I am not a film critic, nor do I play one on tv. I don’t know all the fancy tricks to keep a movie’s secrets intact while writing about it. So if you don’t want to know anything about 8 Mile, stop reading now. Bookmark the page and return after you’ve seen it too.
I almost never go to the movies, maybe because of how I feel right now after seeing 8 Mile. Of course I knew before the film began that there would be a rap showdown and that Em’s character Rabbit would triumph, but that didn’t make it any less wonderful when it happened. Formulaic? Maybe. Worth spending $10 and 2 hours of your life on? Absolutely.
What I liked about the film. For starters, Eminem is hot. I’m a fan but I don’t watch much television, so I never get to see Eminem in interviews. More to the point, I never get to see him just being a person – cracking jokes, feeling sad, being himself. And after all, this movie is all about Marshall Mathers being himself. His brooding silences, his raw talent, his tenderness – this is what makes him hot, much more so than a shirtless photo on the cover of Spin.
I was impressed by every character in this film. The supporting cast did a fantastic job, from the inspiring yet straying love interest Alex, to the wayward mother, her deadbeat boyfriend, Rabbit’s motley posse, and his best friend Fortune. When Fortune and Rabbit fought I felt genuine sadness, the sadness I’ve felt when I’ve misunderstood or hurt my own friends, or when they’ve done the same to me, no matter how good our intentions were at the time. In the end, Fortune was a true and forgiving friend, and the beauty and purity of unconditional friendship moved me.
I really liked that Alex was going to leave Detroit in the end, that Rabbit wore a tattered shirt and went back to work in the factory after the rap-off. I like that no one walked off into the sunset, because that’s the way life is, that’s REAL.
Which brings me to what I didn’t like about the film. I didn’t like that for the majority of the film I felt the hopelessness, the angst, the ennui of Rabbit’s life. Of course this only means that the film was doing its job, because those ugly moments are reality; it just happens to be the reality I don’t often think about. Those are the moments and the feelings that I tend to put aside – I mostly write about the funny nuances of life, because that’s the side of life I prefer to think about, the world I strive to live in. Humor is what gets me through watching loved ones suffer from cancer, friends dying, unavoidable wars brewing, the men I love not loving me back. Without humor, reality would tear me apart, and I’d be crying all the time like I was when I finally got home and was able to show my true reaction to the film. Maybe that’s why I don’t go to the movies very often – because there’s so much sadness in the world that it seems unnecessary to pay $10 to feel more of it.
Perhaps this film hit me at just the right time. Sure, it was just a movie, and a somewhat predictable one, yet I enjoyed – and didn’t enjoy – it nonetheless. Life is about all the things 8 Mile exposed – oppressive, suffocating sadness, and unadulterated, exalting happiness. One almost cannot exist without the other. The film made me want to write for a living, to send my essays to journals, websites, anybody who will give me a chance to speak. Rabbit's decision to pursue his rap career, and to do it on his own, is the artist’s way. And deep down we’re all artists, we just don’t always let that part of us out. This film reminded me how important it is to let the artists inside us shine. To be expressive, thoughtful human beings, not just in our songwriting or painting or writing or rapping, but in every aspect of our lives – even during those hours when we’re sitting in a cubicle and doing the last thing we feel passionate about, so that we can have homes to dwell in, food in our bellies, and experiences that become the fodder for our art.
That’s why I created this site, that’s why I carry a purple notebook with me everywhere I go. Even if what I write doesn’t seem like art to anyone else, it sure seems like art to me.
If Eminem can make me cry, what can I do to affect someone else, even if for a brief moment? And more importantly, what can you do? Just as Rabbit discovered, it’s best we go find out, rather than sit around talking about it. So take off those pen caps, check those mikes, and show me, don’t tell me, baby. Wurd.
