By Dwight Brown, NNPA News Wire Film Critic
They’re girlz in the hood. Two young women trying to make it from “Friday” and “Next Friday” to “Friday After Next.” And as they do, they take viewers on a journey through working class Los Angeles that feels like it was ripped from the past and updated with a modern feminist twist.
The film’s comedy roots are showing, employing an old tradition of two friends trying to get through life in a paycheck-to-paycheck part of town, this time in Baldwin Hills. Producer Issa Rae (“Insecure”), screenwriter Syreeta Singleton (“Insecure”) and music video director turned filmmaker Lawrence Lamont don’t venture far off the block. Keep it simple. Give the two lead characters, Dreux (Keke Palmer) and Alyssa (SZA), the same kind of bonding experience as the “Friday” franchise’s Craig (Ice Cube) and Smokey (Chris Tucker) or Craig and Day-Day (Mike Epps) — then roll the dice.
Dreux and Alyssa are roommates. Similar in some ways, different in others. They’re so close they can finish each other’s sentences and mirror each other’s thoughts. They chat incessantly. Or just roll their eyes, toss their hair in the air and fan their long fingernails like they’re talking in a code language. They chatter continuously about men, love, life, and the bills.
The difference is Dreux, who has a job at a restaurant named Norm’s, wants to become a manager and climb the corporate ladder. She’s the breadwinner. Alyssa is a budding artist/painter with lots of canvasses and no sales (yet). She’s also distracted by her live-in and forever-mooching lover Keshawn (Joshua David Neal), her Ray J.
Rent is due on their apartment and the irascible landlord Uche (Rizi Timane) ain’t playing. Pay up or get out. Unbeknownst to Dreux, Alyssa has given their rent money to her irresponsible boyfriend — and it’s gone. Crisis!!!! Uche confronts them and his ultimatum is clear: pay him $1,500 by 6 p.m. or their stuff will be put out on the streets. Door locked, end of story.
The “there ain’t nothing going on but the rent” plot device gives the proceedings momentum for 97 minutes, cut by editor Tia Nolan. Even when the pacing goes up and down with its dialogue-clogged scenes, there is a goal, and everyone is onboard. Time ticks away. You can see it intermittently on the screen in big bright orange numbers and letters. A timer notches the countdown. It’s a fun way to end the longer sequences and up the panic factor.
Singleton’s specialty is episodic TV. She can write a funny line, like when a bundle of hair blows by on the street and someone yells “tumble weave!” Yet, there’s a sense, with this segmented narrative rhythm, that what you’re watching feels more like a series of sketches pulled together than a smooth feature comedy film, like “Girls Trip.” Also, the incessant chatting between the two leads seems like strained improv at times and might be better placed on a TV show, where words carry the plotline. Would have been nice if more scenes were purely visual and the script trusted the audience to see the story as well as hear it.
That said, Palmer and SZA rattle off the dialogue like they’ve lived this story. Alyssa: “We been that girl!!!” Dreux and Alyssa have mad chemistry. They argue, fuss, and fight. Make up and go back to being sister friends all over again. Both lead actors are animated the entire time. Most of their antics are funny. Sometimes it seems like they’re working overtime to save the movie. And they do. They’re the core.
Palmer is a known TV/movie entity. She’s overexcited on “Password,” lively on BET’s “Just Keke,” and a scene-stealer in movies like “Nope.” Her Dreux isn’t a new persona, more like an extension of the one she’s already created. The surprise in the duo is the Grammy-winning SZA. Who knew? Who knew that this neo soul singer had such comedic acting chops? She’s fluid with dialogue, batshit crazy when she needs to be, and boyfriend-addicted in ways that are very funny. Between the two, she’s the one that gives a performance that cries out, “I’m ready to helm a comedy series. Bring it on!”
Scenes are peppered with odd characters who add spice. Timane the gruff landlord, Maude Apatow as Bethany, the white neighbor who’s hated then loved, and Katt Williams as Lucky, the vagabond streetwise soothsayer. Keyla Monterroso Mejia (“Curb Your Enthusiasm”) plays Kathy, the uppity loan officer who needles the girls unmercifully, with a droll audacity that’s hysterical.
In his first feature film, director Lamont guides the madness to its ending. What’s so surprising is that as a former video director (Big Sean, “Single Again”), he doesn’t showcase a unique, flowing style. Aside from a split screen, he doesn’t really tap into his music video skills. When the duo runs down the streets, in heels, that would have been a good time to display some dazzling camerawork (cinematographer Ava Berkofsky). His best comic instincts are presented during a blood bank sequence. When a clumsy phlebotomist (Janelle James, “Abbott Elementary”) has trouble finding veins in Dreux’s arm, it’s the film’s funniest scene, and Lamont pours on the wackiness and physical comedy until you howl. Some viewers may wish he could’ve sustained that level of outlandish humor for the film’s entirety.
Production designer Monique Dias, costume designer Kairo Courts, music by Chanda Dancy and musical tastes of music supervisors Sarah Bromberg and Stephanie Diaz-Matos help shape the movie’s setting and soul. This is a modern day take on urban life where the struggle is real. Their attention to detail corroborates that.
There’s enough here to make twentysomethings and the girls’ night-out crowd holler back at the screen in a local cinema. In the future, this raucous, R-rated comedy will become a staple on late-night streaming services and draw a much wider audience.
