Ride or Die?

An Analysis of Gang Lifestyle through the Scope of Modern Film

By Austin Murphy

          Regardless of your preferred taste in music or persuasion on the hip-hop/rap subculture, there is no denying that Tupac Shakur was a musical genius, a lyrical savant whose talent was such that the world chose to bring him back to life as a hologram like some bleeping Jedi out of Star Wars.

          In his 1997 single “Hail Mary,” released cryptically five months after his death on September 13, 1996, Tupac raps about zoning out the negativity and violence surrounding him, a result of his enduring experiences with crime, drugs, and gangs. The chorus presents two options to the listener, echoing what we can assume to be his internal struggle:

          

          “Do you wanna ride or die?”

           

          As has famously been documented and debated, Tupac both rode and died. Shot fatally while riding in Marion “Suge” Knight’s black BMW sedan in Las Vegas on September 7, 1996, Shakur died six days later at the University Medical Center of Southern Nevada. Though only 25 years of age at the time of his death, he is celebrated and revered as a pioneer of hip-hop.

          In the past two months I have watched two movies that, despite being released nearly a decade apart, both comment on the impact and influence of the gangster lifestyle to which Shakur so famously fell victim: Nick Cassavetes’ 2006 film “Alpha Dog”--which is based on a true story--and F. Gary Gray’s biographical 2015 film “Straight Outta Compton.” The latter of the two focuses, of course, on the formation and eventual dissolution of the hip-hop group N.W.A.

          Chronologically, N.W.A. came together in 1986 under the leadership of Eazy-E (Eric Wright) and was comprised initially of Ice Cube (O’Shea Jackson, Sr.), Arabian Prince (Kim Nazel), and Dr. Dre (Andre Young). Their meteoric rise helped proliferate the sub-genre of “gangster rap,” also known as “reality rap.” The biographical film covers the group’s success and strife as they dealt with racism, violence, drugs, crime, and internal disputes, eventually concluding with Wright’s death in 1995 after a battle with AIDS.

          As a biographical film, “Straight Outta Compton” deals primarily with the truth of these rappers' stories, although it is well-understood that directors have to take artistic liberty to shrink people’s lives down to two-and-a-half hours. Certain scenes are often imagined entirely and fictitious in nature, although for the most part the films remain historically accurate.

          The opening scene shows Wright escaping from a drug deal gone bad and potential incarceration. This part of the movie is true in a sense, as Eazy-E had earned as much as $250,000 selling drugs in the Compton area before the creation of N.W.A. Though diminutive in height, Wright was considered a “thug” in real life, earning protection and privilege in a city torn by gang violence.

Whether or not Eazy-E ever had first-hand experience dealing with guns cannot be proven, but growing up in Compton made it much more likely. Two specific instances where guns are seen in the film include the opening scene, when Wright is threatened with a gun by his “customer,” and a later hotel scene, when N.W.A. collectively scares off a group of would-be gangsters. Furthermore, the film lends credibility to the group’s experiences with gang violence, as Young’s brother Tyree was actually murdered in 1990 while N.W.A. was on tour, as referenced in the movie.

Technically speaking, N.W.A. came together nearly a decade before Tupac’s murder in 1996, but the deceased rapper is considered to be a contemporary of the group. “Straight Outta Compton” also portrays their association with Suge Knight through Death Row Records, establishing a parallel with Shakur’s actual life. What’s more, the film includes a scene showing Tupac recording the pre-discussed “Hail Mary” and his collaboration with Young on “California Love.” These two beloved songs remain hallmarks of Shakur’s celebrated discography.

Thus far it is prudent to note that “Straight Outta Compton” deals with real-life events, and the people and issues explored in the film are primarily true and accurate. This is an important distinction to make, as “Alpha Dog” provides a decidedly different perspective on the “gang” subculture of southern California.

“Alpha Dog” deals primarily with the real-life kidnapping and murder of Benjamin Markowitz and related events in 2000, with the largest share of the blame falling on Jesse James Hollywood--known in the film as “Johnny Truelove.” Several of Hollywood’s associates are portrayed in the film as well, including Jesse Rugge, Natasha Adams-Young, and the actual murderer Ryan Hoyt.

In the movie, “Truelove” is presented as a young, “kingpin” drug dealer of his immediate circle of friends. Despite his role as the leader, or “Alpha Dog,” of his circle, his actions in the film show that he could not be less deserving of the title. Currently serving a life sentence for Markowitz’s murder, Hollywood even had the gall to sign his mail as “Alpha Dog” after the release of the film, despite the fact that he didn’t even have the male reproductive organs to commit the murder himself and had to convince Hoyt to do so.

The film in large part portrays “Truelove” and his friends as upper middle-class white kids living in Claremont, CA. They spend their days listening to hip-hop, selling and abusing illegal drugs, and taking advantage of their parents’ negligence and lack of supervision. While some part of the blame has to fall on the shoulders of the well-off, absentee parental figures, it doesn’t take a genius to know that kidnapping and murder are both illegal and wrong.

The roles of parents in the two films is an issue to be compared. In “Straight Outta Compton,” both Young’s and Jackson’s parents are portrayed as being caring, concerned, and present--an effective counter to the stereotype that African-American fathers are typically uninvolved in their children’s lives. While the film glosses over Young’s actual history of violence against women, it paints him as a responsible young father and older brother, working to create a better life for him and his family.

Contrastingly, the parents in “Alpha Dog” are shown to be irresponsible and unconcerned, allowing their children the freedom to do whatever they please--and the parents’ affluence and financial stability make it all that much easier to do so. Several scenes within the movie lend credibility to this notion, beginning first and foremost with “Truelove’s” father.

In the film, “Sonny Truelove” is shown to be protective of his son, though only in the sense that he doesn’t want him held accountable for his crimes. It is implicitly understood that he provided his son with marijuana to sell, reflected in real-life by the fact that Jack Hollywood spent time in prison for a marijuana charge. Despite urging his son to come clean late in the film, his “parental advice” comes far too late and falls on deaf ears.

As the film progresses, we see Rugge’s father portrayed as an irresponsibly alcoholic marijuana farmer, Adams-Young’s mother is shown to be more interested in sex than the well-being of her daughter, and Markowitz’s father is depicted as weak and easily manipulated--as his elder son, “Jake,” is a neo-Nazi speed freak whose debt to “Truelove” is the entire impetus behind the kidnapping and murder.

Ironically, given that the movie’s title parodies the phrase “Alpha Male,” the only characters who display any sense of morality or responsibility are females. The first is Adams-Young, “Susan,” (for responding hysterically to the kidnapping and trying to tell her mother--although her pleas are repeatedly ignored, especially when Rugge’s counterpart, “Frankie,” makes her repeat the phrase “I, Susan, am a whiny bitch, and you, Frankie, have it under control”) and the second is Markowitz’s mother (for condemning “Jake’s” actions and habits and being the only parent in the movie that you can tell loves or cares for her child).

The most contrasting facet of the two movies is that none of the spoiled youth in “Alpha Dog” is an artist, nor do they pursue anything that resembles a respectable living. All the while, “Truelove” continually shirks the responsibility of being the “Alpha Dog.” Compare this with the fact that in “Straight Outta Compton,” the leader of N.W.A., Eazy-E, doesn’t flinch in the opening scene when threatened with a gun. “Alpha Dog” depicts a lack of any such courage on “Truelove’s” behalf. He repeatedly totes a handgun but never once shoots another person, and the only violence he portrays is a half-assed, cowardly attempt to strangle a “friend” from behind.

The characters in “Alpha Dog” try to give off the impression that they live a “gangster,” “hardcore” lifestyle by abusing drugs, partying, and cursing, but if you think any of these kids can light a candle to someone like Eazy-E or Marshall Mathers and his life in Michigan--as depicted in “8 Mile”--you and I aren’t watching the same movie and you need a refresher on Eminem’s upbringing.

In the words of Mathers, “All you other Slim Shadys are just imitating.”

The film actually parodies itself during one scene, when Hoyt’s character criticizes a hip-hop music video:

“The only thing they shoot is music videos.”

At this point during the movie, I could only shake my head in disbelief at the gall of these real-life cowards. What the hell were you shooting? Innocent children? Because the only person killed in the entire movie or in real-life was a fifteen-year-old boy whose drug-addict brother owed money to a coward.

Ultimately, the movie came down to personal responsibility and bullying at the expense of the eventual murderer, Hoyt. But after all, isn’t “gangster rap” supposed to be about having thick skin and not letting anyone disrespect you or your “homies”? Eazy-E and Tupac paid the ultimate price for their gang involvement, especially because they saw the errors of their ways far too late. Clearly Hollywood and his crew missed that historical lesson.

Although I know nothing about the Compton lifestyle depicted in “Straight Outta Compton,” the film “Alpha Dog” reminds me very much of two kids I grew up with in Fresno--both of whose names will remain anonymous for obvious reasons. One was an elite athlete who could have competed at the highest collegiate level if he had his head on his straight. He was kicked off the team multiple times, and his predilection for hip-hop music, marijuana, and irresponsible friends ultimately hampered any chance of fulfilling his tremendous potential.

The other young man was a mediocre athlete, but he, too, continually spent time with the wrong crowds, tried to act “gangster,” and nearly destroyed his life by experimenting with drugs at a young age. I distinctly remember one practice when he arrived late and started crying after the coach told him he was going to end up in jail. I am no longer in contact with either of these individuals, so I cannot speak to their current affairs or possible criminal records. What I am certain of, however, is that neither has fulfilled the potential that so many people saw in them as young men.

What saddens me even more is the idea that simply spending time with misguided individuals can cost innocent people dearly, like in both films. Another excellent athlete I went to school with earned a scholarship to a Division-I university and had a relatively successful career while there. Eventually, however, he returned home to finish school and reconnected with old friends. This young man nearly lost his life after being literally “shanked” by an unsavory character while out on the town one night. Fortunately, he has recovered and still excels at his sport, and I am sure he regrets his chosen company on that fateful evening.

In summation, both movies are excellent and do a great job portraying real-life events. I cannot criticize the role of “gangster rap” in its essence, as I respect all art that is honest and uncensored. And I won’t pull an Eric Stratton and frame this as a condemnation of the United States of America, but there are people to be held responsible. The culprit here is the music industry and its commercialization of “gangster rap,” especially for its effect on an impressionable generation of middle class youth. The industry has made a fortune over the decades from marketing its products to unwitting consumers, especially teenagers and disaffected youth searching for an identity through music.

And so that brings me back to Tupac Shakur, his farewell single, and his assertion that there is a deficiency of well-adjusted individuals, or at least that there was a deficiency as he saw it back in the ‘90s:

“Fuck the world if they can’t adjust. It’s just as well, Hail Mary.”  

© Austin T. Murphy 2016