Ain’t This a B

Then comes the character of Chice, played by Brian O’Dell, with an understated  “Tony Soprano” menace who is a smooth-talking, brutal dealer whose easy charisma hides some bloody finger-cutting violence. What begins as an errand to score some cocaine becomes a nightmare of kidnapping, betrayal, and beatings. The shift in tone is jarring.   The camera tightens, the colour palette darkens, and what began as a comedy of survival turns into a cautionary tale of temptation and consequence as Candy’s son is held hostage over missing cocaine. The depictions of violence toward women and a disturbing scene in which a burn victim is taunted with the line, “God doesn’t like ugly.” It’s a moment that feels designed to shock one into realizing that this is a cruel world.  Another moment is when Candy and Earl are forced to watch a murder tied to chairs.

Music is the heartbeat OF Ain’t This a B. The soundtrack features contemporary R&B, hip-hop, and funk, giving the film a living connection to the neighbourhoods it depicts. Like Car Wash or Thank God It’s Friday, and Dolomite, which has a band playing in a club, you have music that becomes a form of community.  The pulse of people getting through the day with the radio on all the time. There’s even an instrumental guitar riff in one scene that sounds like something from The Tragically Hip song 50^th Mission Cap played under a tense exchange between Earl and strung-out party gal Mindy, played with gusto by Brianne Buishas.   The two get visited by the Police when their music is too loud.   Moments when enforcement comes in and an upset Mindy ends up being cuffed stand out.

“These quirks give the film personality, even as the humour gives way to something darker.”

Odd interludes, as well as unseen creatures such as a horse that runs through a scene, which is said to “like the smell of dope,” add a surreal texture to the early acts. A visit to a spiritual leader, trying to get Earl and Candy to ‘see the light’.  A nice touch is a policeman in a pork Pie hat channeling Popeye Doyle in William Friedkin’s The French Connection.  These quirks give the film personality, even as the humour gives way to something darker.  The cast works well together with some stilted moments that, at times, look like the lines were improvised, giving the rapid-fire expressions flow.  The payoff is a letdown, yet it is also symbolic in that it offers an encouraging message to the audience

At 110 minutes, the film runs long and could benefit from being tightened into a crisp ninety-minute cut, which would sharpen its energy and better serve its shift from comedy to crime thriller. Yet even in its sprawl, Ain’t This a B stands as a strong example in modern Black cinema without the Spike Lee budget.