Where are the Crips when you need 'em?
When renting or buying a low budget Z-grade exploitation movie, one should have a realistic set of expectations. Latin Kingz, upon quick examination of the cover images and tagline, would figure to fit into the modern gangsta genre, inaugurated primarily by the huge critical and box-office success Boyz 'N The Hood.
Like many other landmark films (e.g. Pulp Fiction, Jaws, Star Wars), this led to the inevitable glut of hastily made knockoffs, some which were decent but most of which were awful. Nowadays, rental stores are filled with turds sporting covers like that of Latin Kingz, showing some ostensibly tough inner-city gang members holding weapons.
I doubt that any frequent movie renter would glance at this title on the shelf and believe this film approaches quality in any way. Hell, it has a telltale sign of a crap-film in the title, the non-grammatical 'Z', for which Boyz in the Hood remains the sole exception to the rule. Despite this knowledge, people do rent this sort of stuff anyway, because they are fans of a particular genre and have a certain level of expectation from it. Horror films, for example, are expected to at least attempt to give the audience some scares and either a sadistic villain or fearsome monsters. An action film is expected to have some explosions, sarcastic quips, and good stunts. A low-grade gangsta film is expected to look gritty and amp-up the sex, drugs and violence.
Having seen Latin Kingz, I was unexpectedly offended by it; not because of an abundance of sex and violence, but rather its lack thereof. Hell, I already knew this was a bargain-basement production, but at least I figured on watching some gunplay, a gangsta-movie characteristic not terribly restricted by budgetary concerns. Before getting deep into the stink of this movie, let me also issue a disclaimer that this film has nothing to do with the huge Latin Kings street gang. So, if any of you gang members read this, you should take down some notes about the people involved in this crap because you're about to feel royally embarrassed.
He kept coming back to her, if only for her Mick Jagger impersonations.
One can feel visually put-off when the movie begins, as it was shot with a digital camera and 1:33 to 1 aspect ratio (old TV shaped picture). This being a budgetary symptom, I'm not going to go nitpicking. I'm sure I'd still enjoy Goodfellas if it had been shot in this way, plus virtually all of the golden-age classics of the thirties and forties were shot with the same ratio.
We begin on what looks like a nice street in Miami, maybe artsy looking enough to be in the South Beach area. An old but well-maintained '60's car is parked at a curb. In it are 3 young Latino men (not sure yet if they're KINGZ or even PRINCEZ). Out walks an allegedly tough, muscular guy named Cesar; he heads up to the front door of an apartment building. We know he's tough because he walks in that rigid way similar to that of football coaches who've been splashed by a bucket of ice water. He also sports a black knit cap, despite living in sauna-like Miami. Maybe he shouldn't shave his head if he wants to keep it warm.
Anyway, Cesar is there to pester his ex-girlfriend Monica. She points out that he's disobeying a restraining order by seeing her and wants nothing to do with him. He says, "Sorry, baby, I love you!" She angrily repeats her wish that he would stop 'selling shit' (Is Cesar the film's distributor?). Instead of repeating his earnest pledge of everlasting love for her, Cesar tries plan B; "Fuck you bitch, you stanky-ass whore!" If at first you don't succeed, as they say. Cesar starts walking back to the car. That completes the opening tease to the film. Are you riveted now?
A generic rap song plays over the credits as we now take the routine tour of crappy parts of Los Angeles. A camera-shot of colorful graffiti? Check. Pit bull chained in unkempt backyard? Check. Hispanic dudes sitting on a porch with assorted drugs and a cooler? Check. Too bad the credits didn't run longer or I'm sure we would have seen an old car bouncing up and down and a homeless guy pushing a shopping cart.
The film proper now starts in L.A. with three young Hispanic guys on a porch, as opposed to the three young Hispanic guys in a car over in Miami. The short, bald, mustachioed guy, 'Momo', appears to be the leader. Momo has a chubby face, which I think could land him the role of Curly in a Guadalajara production of the Los Nuevos Tres Stooges. Anyway, some guy walks up and warmly greets Momo. The guy is there to buy some drugs. He quickly gets offended, though, when Momo wants him to pay first. The druggie objects, saying he's been buying from Momo for ten years. Momo stands up and threatens to do something violent; Momo is not to be messed with, I guess. His method of intimidation involves saying 'ese' about every fifth word, which I suppose only the most 'hardcore' thugs can pull off. The sale goes through anyway and the druggie leaves. Momo says to his buddies "He'll be back, homes". That doesn't seem like a stretch since that guy has been a customer for ten years as he said.
This shit is good, homes. Hey, let's make a movie!
Back to the apartment building in Miami where time has apparently stood still since the L.A. sojourn. Monica's two girlfriends/roommates come over to console her and cheer her up, telling her to enjoy herself on the vacation they're all about to take.
Now we shift to the Florida Keys. A young waiter (Latino, but probably not one of the Kingz) named Tico is disposing of a couple of empty bottles at a little seaside bar. He looks up to notice a full garbage bag floating in the water, about 30 feet from land. For some odd reason, he is immediately consumed in thought about the garbage bag; either that or he has to urinate badly.
Tico asks his jerk off boss (unsurprisingly named Dick) if he can have his break, homes. Dick angrily says to be back in 5 minutes because some chick barfed all over a floor. It sure sucks to work in a bar or restaurant in a movie, due to hack screenwriters' love of inserting barfing customers. Then again, if Dick was so concerned about the vomit, why was he walking on by until Tico asked him for a break? Anyway, Tico starts to head off but Dick reminds him that it's getting really busy, so no breaks for the rest of the day. Dick states this while he and Tico are standing in an absolutely empty and spotless bar. Tico keeps overdoing the nervous act (really though, over a garbage bag?) while Dick displays some badly timed finger pointing; his acting seems inspired by authority figures from early '80s music videos.
I've seen porn scenes start out like this, except the acting is better and there is a purpose at hand.
Back to South Beach, where it seems certain now that the place has entered some sort of unique stasis field, one in which time does not pass when the movie isn't focused there. Tough cap-wearing Cesar is STILL walking the ten-or-so steps back to his car from the teaser scene. He gets in the car and asks his two buddies, "Y'all muthafuckas ready to roll, dog?" (Please Cesar, use correct grammar; its 'dogs' not 'dog'!) Cesar says 'dog' about two or three or eighty-four more times, establishing that while 'ese' is the pronoun of choice for Momo's L.A. gang, 'dog' dominates the lingo of Cesar's Miami posse. One of Cesar's flunkies asks where they should go, and Cesar states he wants to go down to "the Keys, to git my shit, dog!" Cesar gets angry when both flunkies remind him to check in with his 'P.O'. Cesar then overreacts with them for bringing up the subject, helpfully saying 'Parole Officer' to help out viewers unfamiliar with secret street terms like 'P.O.". Cesar says he don't care about that, 'cause he just spent 3 years in jail and wants to get some coochie. I thought he was going to the Keys to 'git his shit, dog'?