An endearing, amusing tale of an artist trying to keep it real.
When most people think of hip-hop films, the mind wanders more to “8 Mile”, “Get Rich or Die Trying”, “Straight Out of Compton”. Larger than life tales of struggling artists coming up and betting their life on hip hop, like warriors on a quest sworn to the mic as their sword. All great films, for sure.
But it’s nice to see a break from the biopic status quo, something that doesn’t take itself so seriously but still has a lot of heart and thought. And here we have “The 40-Year-Old Version”, an autobiographical story from writer, director and producer Radha Blank about a creative trying to navigate her adulthood and artistry.
Enter, our protagonist Radha. A playwright and workshop teacher stuck in a midlife crisis, struggling to find fulfilling work in the dramatic industry. After a potentially career-blocking hiccup, she reinvents herself as an MC – RahdaMUSPRime. Using hip hop as an outlet for self-expression, venting about the middle-class thirst for “poverty porn”, and the middle age hurts of bad backs and menopause.
The story delivers enjoyable satire that balances its comedy well with its messages. The theme of white creatives and audiences revelling in pre-conceived notions of race and black art is done with great, playful humour, seen when elderly pale and frail audience members do the hands-up-hands-down to a melodramatic hip-hop musical, or when an actress gives a monologue about the social power of soy milk.
Radha Blank as an actress/writer gives a performance and script with a lot of range. Her chops stretch from ridiculousness to subtlety – moments of physical comedy and the bizarre are hilarious, just as much as her polite, awkward encounters with her peers. She also nails the drama and vulnerable moments. A great supporting cast shines through, with Peter Kim as her overworked agent/best friend Archie, and Oswin Benjamin as D, a nonchalant beatmaker.
This is a relatable story for artists, or anyone whose grappled with questions of what they’re meant to do in life. The disbelief of those around you, the drive to prove yourself, the feeling of all-encompassing despair when it goes wrong – if your art doesn’t matter, do you?
The music is well curated, with a soundtrack from Dilla beats to jazz to old soul, providing a fitting audible backdrop to the NY streets. The film never has a joke at the expense of hip hop culture either, showing how important it is to its participants, and the musical moments always fit tastefully to the scene. One tender convo remembering dead relatives becomes a hushed, bedside freestyle – written with all the whispers, stutters and emotion you’d expect.
All in all, this black and white film still bursts with colour and life from its characters and plot. You’ll certainly laugh, maybe well up a little, and come away with an appreciation of the power of rap not just as the golden ticket to superstardom, but as a tool for healing, expressing feeling and finding your own voice.
RATING: 10/10