To be fair, this ain't a really bad film. It's nice to look at, and it has an engaging storyline you don't see every day. What bugged me out about it right away is the massive stamp of another filmmaker's influence all over it -- namely Spike Lee. Photography, score, and even some situations in the film all reminded me right away of Lee's earlier movies. Jimmie Fails wants to own the Victorian house that his grandfather built in San Fran years and years ago -- that's the premise. The plot is quite thin, undoubtedly. The good thing is, eventually, co-writer-director Joe Talbot finds his own "groove" as the film pushes on. There's an interesting push-and-pull between some rougher aspects of urban black male life and more sophisticated fare... Jimmie's buddy is a playwright who practices talking "street" in a mirror with somewhat humorous results. Oh, and this film showed me the correct pronunciation of the word "philistine."
That's what happens when you don't talk to other folks about the same stuff that you learn about!
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