A PLEA TO THE BOSS FLEA TO WATCH SPIKE LEE

Words by Brock Lake

It is I.

Writer, Photographer, Lover… Brock Lake.

Not the character, the real deal.

But it is here, a real person, that I must ask why I am friends with a robot?

I think the mistake I made in assuming somebody as “affluent” in cinema as Matthew Donlan, of the notable Gadigal based microcinema newsletter the Fleapit, had the heart to visit the body of work of a director as singularly human as Spike Lee, is laughable. But you kept it hidden so well you bad, bad, bad, bad boy.

I recall the incident. A night down by Cook’s River we had two weeks ago, watching surveyors move like machines trying to get a paycheck. As we admitted secrets and ate grapes, spotted dick, faygo and pet nats. When you showed me your visa and revealed you were actually from Muscat – prompting me to suggest for us to buy tickets for Sydney Cinémathèque’s Rebel, Rebel programme’s screening of Spike Lee’s MALCOLM X (1992) since they were screening it in 35mm for only $18 on Saturday, 25 July. And you replied “What?”.

I thought you were referencing my fictional pet pigeon, which was funny. I actually used to think you were funny like that. But my smirk became a grimace filled with the foul taste of grape pie, giving you the room to admit your sin: you had only seen Blackkklansman (2018) and Inside Man (2006). Spike’s two highest grossing movies, and his two arguably most pandering and famishing pieces.

For somebody so invested in the underdog, your ignorance of Spike’s filmography is staggering. But why is that? Is it true that trying to watch so many Australian films has blinded you to the world? Or is it the ferocity of his messaging, the ultra-stylised aesthetics? The colour? You know what I think? I think you see all the bells and whistles of his movies' characteristics and think that it truly is just that. Listening for nothing but wind chimes that sneak in with suburban traffic.

F is for fucker and you are for smacking boy. Look, I do want to love you boss, but you’re making this process quite hard.

To love Spike Lee is one thing. To love his movies is another. And to love every movie is actually impossible (see Highest to Lowest and Oldboy). But to deny yourself the experience of something earnest and human is downright pernicious. I don’t need you to become a Spikehead. I just need you to understand his heart. Something you might not actually HAVE. How is the air with love that each of his joints are stained. Early or even present-day Spike's joints are a result of passion, albeit occasionally heated and sometimes misguided (see Blackkklansman (yep not a fan) and Oldboy) but always tied with a raw beating heart. Because it is with this understanding that makes you a better human being, which is difficult to say about most auteurs working today.

Spike uses the medium unlike most auteurs: he seeks to garner and convey understanding about the nature of the world. Yes, questions are asked, but answers are given. Yes this does imbue the joints with an overt bias, but I’d argue that makes him one of the more honest filmmakers. Components of a Muhammad Ali kind of ethos, the kind of personal filmmaking that one should aspire for: a double-dolly float into the cold-blooded-murder sting of reality. It is this passion of filmmaking that the maybe off-putting hyper-stylings - in my opinion - enhance (except the 20min in Crookyln) the stories. Creating full sympathy for the world.

This conjuration for spirit and expression in all aspects allows for a worldwide emotional revolution. With the themes and politics of his films brutally simple, the plot and characters are always nuanced and TRUE. No matter what, they are characters trying to do what's best for them in an unforgiving world, and you can feel that. Even in side characters like Radio in Do The Right Thing (1989), or Shadow in Mo’ Better Blues (1990), Carolyn in Crooklyn (1994), Rocco in Clockers (1995), Lala in He Got Game (1998) or West End Archie in MALCOLM X (1992). These are minor players aiming to overcome the environment in which they are stuck. Never does the joint blame them for their actions, it merely presents. Their cruelness is instead out of fear of existing in an awful world.

The main characters are ones with deep peculiarity and complexity. Where else are you supposed to find a film with a drug dealer that loves chocolate milk and electric train sets? I do hate spoilers. But I think it's necessary to spoil Clockers, because it was with the culmination of Spike's ethos and execution that I started to bawl my eyes out right next to Alexei Toliopoulos, the host of this particular Cinémathèque screening. The climax of the movie portrays Shorty, a kid who is enamoured by the protagonist Strike to the point where he murders the second hand man sent to kill Strike by the projects' kingpin in broad daylight - with a gun he stole from Strike.

The moment in particular is Harvey Keitel's character Rocco coaching the kid to retell the story before recording it on tape to exonerate him. A kid coached throughout the film on how to be a man, how to make money, persuaded with valuables and love. Even coached by a video game gifted to him by Strike, reenacting this exact event earlier. What follows is a direct to camera montage of Rocco telling the kid and the audience how the lie is going to go. Trouble is, the lie is believable. Spike places Rocco inside the recreation, with absurd and surrealist compositions and lenses, beckoning the audience to consider how many stories like this a detective like Rocco must catch so that he can tailor something for this kid on a whim. It forces the audience to consider that the true evil is not of Rocco, or of Shorty, but of the projects that put them there. I was folded in half so I could empty my eyes out.

The joint ends with Strike being forced to flee the projects aboard a train to god knows where. And kid Shorty playing with the now-inherited train set from Strike. Match cut to a billboard between real life and the toyset.

Yes this is overt. But is it not POWERFUL MATTHEW? It provokes the audience to consider why the movie was made. And is shown maybe 5 times before this. As another aspect of his films are their meta-commentary to the existence of his voice in a lacklustre culture. Spike's joints aren't just any other film. They are a film that he wants to see - a change embodied in the work. Haven't you read that Jean Luc-Godard article?

So what is to be done? Well Matty, I think you should do your due diligence and just watch Spike Lee's 3rd highest grossing joint, MALCOLM X (1992) with me at the Art Gallery of NSW this Saturday. A film which is his angriest to date, but is the most intimate portrayal of a man overcoming stages and systems in his life, overriding what he is perceived to be only to become a better human being. But at the cost of the country in which he was born. I don't want to say much other than that because it truly is something to be seen. And I hope you'll make it and if not you're a racist and a fascist. And I hope others will join us too. If you haven't seen a Spike Lee movie, you may as well start with his best. Also don't be mad if you see me leaving early, I know the ending and I have work at 5pm that day and don't want to be late.

Love Your Brock Flea (BF).

Editor's Notes:
It is true.
I, Matthew Donlan, have seen very little Spike Lee. However, there are two factual inaccuracies I must correct.
1. I am not from Muscat.
2. I have seen three Lee films, the two Brock has listed and also David Byrne's American Utopia. I recognise that does not put me in a kinder light, and that is a burden I must carry.

I am truly sorry but I cannot make it to Saturday's screening of Malcolm X because mother Flea is in town and I have to move houses. My landlord had a problem with the flea infestation.

Pick of the Week
Go see Malcolm X on the big screen in 35mm at the Sydney Cinemathque on Saturday 25 July. If you do, say hi to Brock. If you don't, please help me pack my house.

New Releases - Thursday 23 July

• Penny Lane is Dead (Mia Kate Russell) AUS
• Tenor: My Name is Pati (Rebecca Tansley)
• The Wizard of the Kremlin (Olivier Assayas)
• Colours of Time (Cédric Klapisch)