Review of Talk to Me

Halfway into the movie, I was ready to declare Talk To Me a favorite. Up to that point, it was the most joyous movie of the year, full of vibrant, colorful energy and some sharp humor. Then, at one point, Talk To Me completely derails itself, and I was left wondering if the movie ever really accomplished anything.

Talk To Me is the biographical story of two popular Washington D.C. personalities, Dewey Hughes (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and Ralph "Petey" Greene (Don Cheadle), and it's the Boogie Nights of radio jockeys. Starting out in the year 1966, the big shot radio station director Dewey reluctantly visits his lifer brother in prison, where he meets the jive-talkin', slick-walkin', afro-wearin' Petey, a prison celebrity thanks to his stint as the DJ. Petey tells Dewey that he'll be out in 5-10 years, and he expects a job at Dewey's station. But Petey gets released sooner than expected, which at first puts a whirlwind in Dewey's life, but soon proves to be a blessing. The budding friendship between them is what drives the first half of the movie, and it's a treat to watch. Dewey plays the straight man to Petey's craziness, which provides a lot of laughs. When Dewey succumbs to Petey's craziness, the radio station owner played by Martin Sheen takes over the role of the straight man.

However, as Petey starts to lose interest in Dewey's master plan to make him a superstar, we lose interest in the film as well. All the attempts to hit dramatic notes fail, as it hits one cliché moment after another instead. This wonderfully engaging life story becomes yet another silly fame-and-fortune TV movie.

The biggest offense the film did was to use the death of Dr. Martin Luther King as a plot device and cheap dramatic oomph. Dr. King's death also serves as the death of the film's momentum. What was previously a smooth-sailing underdog story suddenly tries to jerk your tears and turns into an obscenely false attempt at a profound message. When a big fistfight between the DJs suddenly ceases and becomes a hugfest, and we see Martin Sheen's (non) character weeping against a wall, it's all too apparent how pandering the whole thing is, despite its noble intentions (See how we can all set aside differences and become one!). Even hokier is how Petey breaks into an on-air monologue about leadership, racism and heartache - things that previously had absolutely nothing to do with the film. And yes, the speech is followed by the slow clap scene.

True, MLK did have that effect on people, and that's why to play up that sadness and then exploit it is off-putting. The film treats the assassination as this direct, pivotal moment that affects every single character in the movie, and then in an instant it is forgotten. It feels ignorantly cheap, and worse, the film never recovers from it. The second half of Talk To Me is spent with the old money-doesn't-bring-happiness trick, and while the movie was limited in telling what really happened to Petey Greene, surely it wasn't limited to telling it as bland as possible?

One thing that is consistent throughout is the phenomenal job by both Don Cheadle and Chiwetel Ejiofor, who made one dynamite pairing. I have no idea how to pronounce his name, but in the last few years Ejiofor has displayed amazing versatility and screen commandment that makes him my favorite up-and-comer. Here, he channels that to his interpretation of real life personality Dewey Hughes. Hughes is a man who came up from the projects, hustled his way through a college education, and became successful playing the white man's game. He wants to be both The Man and The People, a manager and an entertainer. Sometimes sympathetic and sometimes pathetic, there's a quiet depth in Ejiofor's performance that allows him to juggle that character. Don Cheadle, on the other hand, is less complex, because he is simply mesmerizing. Petey Greene is the kind of preacher character that can make you listen, to the point where he calmed down a citywide riot. Cheadle makes you believe that, and when he yells "Wake up, goddammit!" - you wake up and listen.

Despite ending up as a disappointing and emotionally flat biopic, it's not an un-salvageable loss. It does have very good performances from the leads, and, uh, the music is pretty groovy. The use of Sam Cooke's "A Change Is Gonna Come" during the mourning scenes is admittedly moving, though that's a credit to the song itself, not particularly the film.