He didn’t do the right thing

December 17, 2015

Chicagoan Kevin Moore has a few points to make with Spike Lee about his new film.

"THE MISSION was to save lives." This is what Spike Lee proclaimed on the Sway in the Morning radio show, defending the aim of his latest film Chi-Raq.

The statement is a bold one from a filmmaker who has tackled taboo social issues for nearly 30 years. While Lee may have intended Chi-Raq to be a call to action to address gun violence/culture in Chicago, the film is a muddied, preachy satire that lacks the emotional connection and authenticity of his most notable films.

Directed by Lee and written by Kevin Willmott, Chi-Raq is a modern retelling of Aristophanes' Lysistrata. In the ancient Greek comedy, Lysistrata organizes a sex strike to convince Athenian warriors to bring an end to the Peloponnesian War.

The main character in Chi-Raq is also named Lysistrata (played by Teyonah Parris). After two murder attempts on her boyfriend, rapper and shot-caller for the Spartans, Chi-Raq/Demetrius Dupree (Nick Cannon), she wants the violence to end between the Spartans and the Trojans, a rival gang led by bejeweled eye patch-wearer Cyclops (Wesley Snipes).

Samuel L Jackson in Spike Lee's movie Chi-Raq
Samuel L Jackson in Spike Lee's movie Chi-Raq

Lysistrata seeks refuge in the home of activist and community elder Miss Helen (Angela Bassett). Miss Helen encourages Lysistrata to look into the story of Liberian activist Leymah Gbowee, who organized a sex strike as part of a women's peace movement that eventually brought an end to the Second Liberian Civil War in 2003.

Inspired by Gbowee, Lysistrata convinces the Spartan and Trojan women that the way to bring an end to the violence is to go on a sex strike. The strike eventually becomes bigger than the Spartans and Trojans, crossing generational lines as Miss Helen and the women in her circle join the strike.

The slogan "No Peace, No Piece" is picked up internationally. Women in Japan, Greece, Pakistan and the Dominican Republic show their solidarity with demonstrations, chanting similar slogans.

The sex strike provokes the ire of the male characters, who for the most part are intended to carry most of the comedic weight. The chauvinistic, petulant members of the male-only lodge, Knights of Euphrates, organize a counterprotest, demanding that the women participating in the "No Peace, No Piece" movement end their strike.

Review: Movies

Chi-Raq, directed by Spike Lee, written by Kevin Willmott, starring Teyonah Parris, Nick Cannon, Samuel L. Jackson and John Cusack.

Pressured by the president, Chicago Mayor McCloud (D.B. Sweeney) orders Commissioner Blades (Henry Lennix) to break the strike. By this point, Lysistrata's army has taken over an armory where they confront the Commissioner Blades and the Chicago Police Department ultimately leading to the film's climax.


REPRESENTATION IS one of the many issues with Chi-Raq. Both men and women are reduced to one-dimensional characters. Most of the men in the film are portrayed as sex-crazed, gun-toting buffoons who think of women as nothing more than outlets for sexual gratification.

The women have much more to offer than their bodies, but the audience doesn't necessarily see it. Lee doesn't show the women in this film negotiating or organizing in any way that doesn't use sex as a tactic.

Spike Lee has called Chi-Raq Chicago's Do the Right Thing. To believe that would be an insult to Do the Right Thing. Where Lee's 1989 film set in the Brooklyn enclave of Bedford-Stuyvesant effectively brought racism, gentrification and police violence to the fore, Chi-Raq barely scratches the surface of these critical political issues.

While giving a eulogy during the funeral service of a young girl killed in a shooting, Father Mike Corridan (John Cusack) fervently points to the inequities facing the neighborhood of Auburn Gresham: high unemployment, the school-to-prison pipeline, racist banking policies. Unfortunately, that's all we get.

In a scene that could have a been a springboard to earnestly critiquing the contributing factors of gun violence, Lee settles for the tired position of blaming an apathetic community--a depiction that flies in the face of the real-life reality of local activists fighting to bring an end to gun violence in their respective neighborhoods like Englewood's Mothers Against Senseless Killings.

Chi-Raq also fails to show the audience the neighborhoods at the center of the film. We never see Auburn Gresham or Englewood. We don't see the people, the homes, the businesses or the terrain that shape the character of the neighborhoods. Lee takes the time to insert majestic shots of downtown Chicago and the lakefront, but the audience never gets an authentic feel for the characters' environment.

What is shown of the community feels cartoonish: liquor storefronts are plastered with political posters for a fake Black city official named Hambone, and advertisements for fictional products Da Bomb malt liquor and Weave on Fleek are featured throughout the film. Filmed on location in Chicago, Chi-Raq may as well have been shot on a Hollywood soundstage.

Aside from a weak jab at the militarization of the Chicago Police Department, Lee offers no analysis of police harassment and police violence directed at Black youth in Chicago--an issue that has now gained national attention after almost daily protests against the police killing of Laquan McDonald, but was also prevalent during the time of filming.

Instead, Lee indicts the Black community as the culprit for gun violence. In this film, Lee wants the audience to believe not snitching to the police is a bigger contributor to gun violence than a system that disinvests in schools, makes no effort to bring living-wage jobs to the community and fills the void of jobs and schools with illegal narcotics and police.


CHI-RAQ IS exactly what it appears to be--a film made by someone far removed from the reality of life in Chicago.

The term "Chiraq" itself is problematic. Born out one of Chicago's underground hip-hop scenes known as drill, Chiraq is a play on the common mispronunciation of Iraq as “eye-rack.” The term equates the level of gun violence in certain neighborhoods in Chicago with the violence experienced in Iraq and the Middle East.

Chicago's drill scene has produced notable rappers such as King Louie, Lil Durk, Lil Herb and Chief Keef. There are some who consider the term outdated, like Shadow and Act contributor Sergio, who wrote, "The term 'Chiraq' is horribly outdated in Chicago. No one says that anymore, and even if they did, it was for a very brief time. It was more popular in other cities, seriously plagued with their own problems with violence, but who like to point to Chicago as a form of deflection."

There has also been a backlash to the word Chiraq. Activists like Richard Taylor have denounced its use, and FM Supreme released a track titled "Heal Chi-Raq" in response to Lil Herb and Nicki Minaj's "Chi-Raq."

The outsider argument holds up. If the film is intended to save lives, why use a term that is contested and mischaracterizes the Black communities of Chicago?

In one scene, Miss Helen, outdone that Lysistrata's boyfriend is nicknamed Chi-Raq, tosses around the monikers of other cities with reputations for gun violence: "Bodymore," Maryland, "Killadelphia, etc. It appears to me that "Chi-Raq" was kept for marketing purposes. Try convincing people a film called "Killadelphia" is a mission to save lives, and it's difficult to justify.

There are some scenes in Chi-Raq that border on the bizarre. In an effort to break the strike using music, Commissioner Blades decides to blast old school R & B into the armory with the idea that the smooth sounds of the Chi-Lites will bend the will of the movement.

While the song is playing, Army cadets are performing a lip-synched choreographed routine of the song in their boxers outside of the armory in front of the growing crowd of protesters. Also near the end of the film, Chi-Raq challenges Lysistrata to a televised "sex off" that takes place on a brass bed in the middle of the armory. The first one to make the other climax has their demands met.

The one highlight of the film is Dolmedes (Samuel L. Jackson) as the colorful narrator. Dolmedes is the sage of Englewood who drops gems of wisdom and gives context at different points in the film. If the writing had been as tight for the rest of the cast as it was for Dolmedes, Chi-Raq could have been somewhat bearable.


CHI-RAQ ATTEMPTS to address relevant issues, but the effort falls flat. Ferguson, Eric Garner and Trayvon Martin are mentioned in the film, but the inclusion feels wedged into the script, as does mentioning gentrification and the need for a trauma center on the South Side. Two wounded gang members involved in a shoot-out during Chi-Raq's performance at the beginning of the film are paraded on the screen in a wheelchair and a walker.

Some notable Chicagoans are visibly upset with the production of Chi-Raq. Chance the Rapper called the film "exploitive and problematic." The lack of an authentic feel is the result of the fact that Lee didn't hire many native Chicagoans to work on the film.

Where the soundtrack to Do the Right Thing featured one of hip-hop's biggest acts at the time, Public Enemy, Chi-Raq's soundtrack leaves much to be desired. For a city on the hip-hop map, the soundtrack contains no homegrown hip-hop artists. MC and activist Rhymefest not only has a beef with the soundtrack, but has taken Lee to task for refusing to bring on writers from Chicago.

One of my big questions is who is the intended audience for this film? Chi-Raq relies heavily on caricature and stereotypes so much that it does a better job insulting Chicago's Black community than addressing the issue of gun violence.

Using satire to address a serious issue seems illogical--and some might say insensitive--if your message as a director is to save lives. It also fails as a satire. The jokes fall flat and are out of place. In the end, Chi-Raq is Spike Lee's satirical commentary on gun violence/gun culture. Lee offers no concrete solutions other than finger-wagging at the Black community.

The tragedy of Chi-Raq is the wasted opportunity to create a moment where the people who live in Auburn-Gresham and Englewood could speak, and share their experiences and organizing efforts in combatting gun violence both on screen and behind the scenes.

By proclaiming that the mission of the film is to save lives, Lee injected himself into a political conversation. Lee took on the task of examining an issue that is in need of concrete solutions. However, Lee chose to play into the racist pitfall of concentrating on "Black-on-Black crime" and blaming the Black community without seriously addressing the contributing factors to gun violence in certain neighborhoods.

Maybe next time Lee will do the right thing.

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