
Straight Outta Compton promo pic
The representation of women in F. Gary Grayâs Straight Outta Compton can be viewed two ways. The first, most obvious assessment is that in a film that barely passes the Bechdel test (One woman tells another in the filmâs opening scene, âNah, Iâm good,â in response to a non-verbal question of whether she would like to drink Easy-Eâs unwanted forty.) the multitudes of silent, mostly naked, women strewn liberally throughout the nearly three hour run time are sexualized objects, and nothing more. Iâm not exaggerating when I say that this biopic features more boobs than Boogie Nights and a lot more booty. A deeper message can be observed however, when examining the protagonistâs arcs for change and its impetuous. The lives of NWAâs members are profoundly shaped by the women in them, and though at times their influence wasnât emphasized, they are the backbone of the story; providing the support the men need to excel and even triumph.
Treated as a side character, DJ Yella (Neil Brown Jr.) is depicted as the biggest womanizer, hitting on every woman he interacts with and watching explicit porn in the tour busâ main room as if it were completely innocuous programming. Just before an early showcase performance he jokes, âCan this motherfuckin Jerry Heller bring in more pussy? Cause thatâs worth twenty percent.â The manager does just that for the guys of NWA, from which the conclusion could be drawn that DJ Yella, at least, felt his contractual arrangement with Heller (Paul Giamatti) was satisfactory.
Ice Cube, played convincingly with depth and finesse by his own son, OâShea Jackson Jr., is driven by his need to provide for himself and his growing family. Though in the early tour scenes he is seen entertaining groupies, even dropping the line âBye, Feliciaâ on a topless, hotel-room-ejected, exotic dancer years before penning Friday, he is the first NWA member to settle down into presumed blissful monogamy. His wife Kim (Alexandra Shipp) doesnât have a big role, but is shown time and again nodding her full support and backing up her manâs plays with her unyieldingly protective body language. The filmmakers did a wonderful job here of showing without telling in just a few scenes what a motivating force this important woman was in his life.
As portrayed cleanly by Corey Hawkins, Dr. Dreâs experiences with women in the film are a contrast to Cubeâs committed one, but tell the same story. At first, both his own mother (Lisa Renee Pitts) and his daughterâs mother, Lavetta (Aeriel Miranda) are critical of his choice to pursue a career in music without any significant financial gain or control over his own path. When he discovers that the mature relationship he desires with future wife Nicole (Elena Goode) is out of reach due to his violent associates and partying lifestyle, he changes his outlook and abandons that life in favor of fiscal independence and total creative control.
Lastly, the filmâs presentation of the late Easy-E, played with heart-rending tenderness by Jason Mitchell, downplays the manâs misogynistic attitudes as a product of his surroundings and the folly of youth. His disgusted demeanor while spitting âYou think I give a damn about a bitch? I ainât a sucker,â while laying down Straight Outta Comptonâs title track is one of utter sincerity even though he is usually shown with a woman close by his side. Though in real life he fathered children with several women, they are barely mentioned and the audience only meets one, the woman who became his wife, Tomika (Carra Patterson). Most tellingly, this woman radically alters the course of Easy-Eâs life by presenting him with an accounting of his managerâs career long betrayal. When E confronts Heller, the man dismisses Tomikaâs importance to E, calling her a groupie executive assistant, but Easy-E doesnât take the woman-blaming-bait. Instead, he trusts the woman he loves and fires the man responsible for duping him for so long.
Watching the fictionalized account unfold, I couldnât shake the idea that if Kim, Tomika and Nicole had just hashed out the groupâs Jerry Heller problem over lunch NWA never would have split up. Only this movie isnât about NWAâs wives, but the men themselves. So even though most of the filmâs women werenât rounded characters, at least Gray didnât let them all become mere titillating backdrop. Some served as important personal confidants and support systems for the movieâs central characters, which highlights their importance to the groupâs ever shifting dynamic. If, as their song Gangsta says, âlife ainât nothin but bitches and money,â then the men of NWA did well for themselves, finding both satisfaction with their bottom lines and love from the bottom of their hearts.