Three the Hard Way (1974)

One of three features costarring blaxploitation luminaries Jim Brown, Jim Kelly, and Fred Williamson—the others are Take a Hard Ride (1975) and One Down, Two to Go (1982)—this muddled conspiracy thriller represents a missed opportunity on many levels. Not only does director Gordon Parks Jr. fail to exploit the action-hero possibilities created by the participation of his three stars, but the picture includes what should be the ultimate campy blaxploitation premise, only to botch the notion’s potential via confusing storytelling, dull pacing, and flat characterization. Bad guy Monroe Feather (Jay Robinson) creates a serum that, when introduced into the water supply of major cities, will kill every black person who consumes the serum. Yet instead of introducing this outlandish concept right at the beginning, thereby positioning the titular trio as African-American crusaders, the filmmakers take a good half-hour to get to the point. Worse, the characters played by Brown, Kelly, and Williamson don’t join forces until fairly late in the story, so Three the Hard Way feels less like a men-on-a-mission picture and more like a hodgepodge of scenes from three separate movies. The filmmakers also waste lots of time on nonsense, such as the very long sequence of Brown’s character producing a recording session for an R&B vocal group. And whenever Three the Hard Way tries to deliver the blaxploitation goods, the material feels half-hearted. For instance, the scene of martial artist Kelly fighting off something like a dozen armed assailants with his bare hands (and feet) is ridiculous, especially because Parks can’t muster camera angles that properly accentuate the action. (The haphazard shooting style makes the encounter feel like a run-through instead of a fully realized scene.) And then there’s the one truly bizarre sequence in the picture—at one point, the heroes recruit three motorcycle-riding babes to doff their tops and then interrogate a prisoner using some sort of sex torture. Like most everything else in Three the Hard Way, the scene is lurid but nonsensical.

Three the Hard Way: LAME

Aaron Loves Angela (1975)

          It’s tempting to theorize that the urban romance Aaron Loves Angela contains a heavy crime element simply because the film’s producers worried that audiences would not flock to a low-budget race-themed movie in 1975 unless the movie included the movie had a blaxploitation vibe. The reason this thought comes to mind is that the drugs-and-hookers stuff in Aaron Loves Angela is so incidental to the main story that it could be extracted without making much difference. But then again, the main story is so threadbare that any attempt at adding dramatic weight, no matter how awkward, is appreciated. Essentially a Romeo-and-Juliet tale about an African-American boy romancing a Puerto Rican girl, Aaron Loves Angela is underwhelming in every way.
          When the story begins, wannabe basketball star Aaron (Kevin Hooks) and intellectually ambitious schoolgirl Angela (Irene Cara) already know each other, so the audience is deprived the magic of their first meeting. Obstacles to their courtship seem minor, because Aaron’s drunken father, Ike (Moses Gunn), wants the boy to focus on his athletic development, and Angela’s relatives (never shown onscreen) presumably want her to steer clear of boys until she’s through with school. To compensate for this lack of conflict, the filmmakers integrate a weak subplot about a pimp named Beau (Robert Hooks), who wants to escape street life by arranging a sketchy drug deal and ripping off crooks for a quarter-million in cash. Meanwhile, Aaron and Angela establish a love nest in the same tenement building where Beau stashes his dope. The inevitable intersection of these storylines is neither believable nor meaningful.

          Plus, while scenes of Aaron at home with his starry-eyed dad have some heft simply because of Gunn’s acting skill, the romantic stuff is flat and trite. Cara, who later became a singing star in addition to her acting work, comes across like a supporting player shoved into the limelight; although naturalistic, Cara lacks leading-lady charisma. Similarly, Kevin Hooks is so bland he gets overshadowed by every actor with whom he shares scenes—even real-life basketball great Walt Frazier, a non-actor who struggles through his brief cameo appearance. Speaking of cameos, blind Puerto Rican singing star José Feliciano shows up briefly to croon a tune during a nightclub scene, and he also composed and performed the movie’s score, which features a combination of background music and original songs. Especially when Aaron Loves Angela gets stuck in airy love-montage sequences, Feliciano’s lively music is the best part of the picture.
           Aaron Loves Angela was directed by the singularly unimpressive Gordon Parks Jr., who made his cinematic debut by helming the blaxploitation hit Super Fly (1972). The filmmaker’s father, famed photographer Gordon Parks, helmed several far superior pictures, including The Learning Tree (1969) and Shaft (1971).

Aaron Loves Angela: FUNKY

Thomasine & Bushrod (1974)

          Although nominally a blaxploitation flick because of its racial themes and predominately African-American cast, Thomasine & Bushrod is primarily one of the many Bonnie & Clyde rip-offs that appeared in the early ’70s—an old-timey love story about doomed souls on the wrong side of the law. The fact that it’s also a Western is what makes Thomasine & Bushrod somewhat unique, because the varied influences add up to an offbeat vibe, even though the movie isn’t particularly impressive.

          At the beginning of the story, sexy bounty hunter Thomasine (Vonetta McGee) uses her wiles to trap a white criminal. Delivering the crook to odious U.S. Marshal Bogardie (George Murdock), Thomasine announces her plan to capture the notorious black outlaw J.P. Bushrod (Max Julien)—and when she tracks him down, viewers realize that Thomasine and Bushrod are actually a couple reuniting after a long separation. Together, they embark on a crime spree so brazen that Bogardie makes capturing them his personal mission. Before the final confrontation, however, the robbers hook up with their impulsive Jamaican friend, Jomo (Glynn Turman), forming a surrogate family in a series of campsites and abandoned homes.

          Written by Julien, who starred in the gritty pimp saga The Mack (1973), Thomasine & Bushrod misses nearly every opportunity to add meaning and significance to its story. There are a few lip-service speeches about the difficulties of being black in the Old West, and Bushrod’s Robin Hood-style habit of giving his stolen loot to poor people approaches a weak kind of social commentary, but for the most part, the lead characters are simply crooks biding time until they pay for their misdeeds. Perhaps the idea was to say something about how African-Americans can only be free in an oppressive society by flouting that society’s rules; if so, this potentially interesting theme never rises to the surface. Nonetheless, Julien’s humane screenwriting delivers a few memorable moments, like the throwaway interaction between Bushrod and an aging black man who is touched when Bushrod actually asks his name, a courtesy the man hasn’t been shown in years.

          Julien and McGee make an interesting screen couple, since Julien is so mellow he barely seems like he’s acting and McGee is as fiery as she is photogenic. Turman, so great a year later in Cooley High (1975), is borderline campy with his flamboyant accent and costume, though still quite likeable, and Murdock delivers the requisite one-note villainous performance. Thomasine & Bushrod was directed by Gordon Parks Jr., best known for the drug-dealer flick Super Fly (1972), and he employs his usual haphazard style, punctuating Thomasine & Bushrod with the same type of groovy still-photo montages he employed for Super Fly. (Available through Columbia Screen Classics via WarnerArchive.com)

Thomasine & Bushrod: FUNKY

Super Fly (1972) & Super Fly T.N.T. (1973)

          Blaxploitation drama Super Fly has so much flavor and grit that it’s tempting to cut the picture slack despite its shortcomings. Vividly photographed on the streets of Harlem, the movie has atmosphere to spare, and the dialogue is so frozen-in-amber ’70s that almost every scene captures the period’s singular patois: “I got somethin’ real heavy to lay on you, man,” or “You don’t own me, pig, and no motherfucker tells me when I can split.” The storyline is nervy as hell, because the protagonist, Priest (Ron O’Neal), is an unapologetic coke dealer looking to make a giant score so he can leave hustling behind; whereas many blaxploitation flicks feature righteous dudes trying to keep drugs off the streets, Super Fly makes a provocative sympathy-for-the-devil statement. As Priest’s partner says in one of the picture’s best exchanges about the drug trade, “I know it’s a rotten game—it’s the only one the man left us to play, and that’s the stone cold truth.”
          The movie’s strongest elements are several driving funk/soul tunes by Curtis Mayfield, who performs onscreen in one sequence, and Priest’s pimp couture: silky mane, giant sideburns, Fu Manchu moustache, wide-brimmed hats, garish leisure suits, floor-length coats. But even with such vivid flourishes, Super Fly is slow going. O’Neal isn’t particularly charismatic or skillful, and director Gordon Parks Jr.’s style is amateurish: He spaces action scenes too far apart, employs utilitarian camerawork, and lingers on aimless bits like a poorly shot sex scene and a long montage of still photographs taken by his famous dad, Gordon Parks Sr., who kick-started the blaxploitation craze by directing Shaft (1971).
          A year after Super Fly scored at the box office, O’Neal returned to the character, and took over as director, for Super Fly T.N.T., which boasts some thoughtful dialogue by screenwriter Alex Haley but can’t overcome a sluggish storyline and dirt-cheap production values. The dull first half of the picture is set in Rome, and the slightly less dull second half is set in Africa, where Priest takes up a new trade as gunrunner. Random highlight of the sequel: Future Benson star Robert Guillaume belting out a full-length rendition of the operatic aria “O Sole Mio” in a Roman café. Go figure.

Super Fly: FUNKY

Super Fly T.N.T.: LAME