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The third installment of the Friday series, Friday after Next, is ostensibly a Christmas movie. Like most Americans, I'm fond of the
holidays. But even the welcome sight of falling snow couldn't lift the grinchy gloom that settled over me as I left this grim excuse of a comedy. Ice Cube's latest foray into weed and ghetto jokes shows utter contempt for his audience and doesn't even have the decency to make us laugh.

The plot is irrelevant to the movie itself, but it's better than the acting and writing, so we might as well waste some time with it. Craig (Cube) and Day-Day (Mike Epps) return as L.A. slackers living in the ghetto. Two nights before Christmas, the only thing stirring is a robber dressed as Santa Claus. He cleans the boys out of presents, cds, and their rent money. "The ghetto...the only place you can get robbed by Santa on Christmas eve," Craig laments. Hasn't he heard of Whoville?

Lacking money to pay their landlord and faced with eviction from a just-out-of-prison bodybuilder, our two heroes start work as security guards in a local strip mall. The mall is home to such fine establishments as Holy Moly, a donut shop frequented by weed-smokin' cops, and Pimps and Hos, a clothing store targeting a particularly refined segment of the population. How Craig and Day-Day actually hope to recoup their rent money in one day is never satisfactorily explained, but we can excuse this oversight given the subtlety and sophistication of the other plot devices.

These include a pimp with the stature and wardrobe of the artist formerly known as Prince; a grizzly, old man who roams the streets in long johns and a shotgun; a sequence in which an old man dressed as a misfit reindeer beats up some local urchins; a trio of old women who alternate Christmas hymns and filthy talk; a parade of women dressed in clothing deemed too racy for Frederick's of Hollywood; and a long scene in which the bodybuilder attempts to rape the pimp only to have the pimp squeeze his testicles with a pair of pliers.

I was particularly enamored of this final scene, as it explores the difficulty of the black man as he struggles to define a role for himself in
a society in which . . . holy crap, it's awful! This is one of the worst pieces of garbage you're likely to see all year. And yet people around me in the theater were actually laughing. Laughing at what, you ask?

Apparently, the random sight of black people screaming at each other is hilarious. Also scoring high on the laugh-o-meter is that amusing spectacle of black men chasing other black men down the street. If they happen to crash through a fence or get hit by a car, it's even better. Old people swearing is always good for a laugh, as is the sound of someone sitting on the toilet. And a big black man with moving pectoral muscles who happens to be gay is positively side-splitting. In fact, the only thing missing is that clever joke in which a man tries to score with a woman who turns out to be a man. How Mr. Cube forgot to include this classic routine is beyond me.

If you find any of this funny, I encourage you to walk, no run, to your nearest megaplex and fork over your nine dollars. That way you will
encourage Hollywood to continue to make high-quality movies that portray African-Americans as the absolute idiots of the Western Hemisphere. Indeed, producers everywhere will be confirmed in their belief that black folk don't want movies about their culture; they just want movies that are demeaning and revolting. Movies that can make 13 million dollars without one shred of intelligence or honest effort.

I'm sorry if I sound unusually upset, but Friday after Next is offensive, and its success is troubling. Where's Jesse Jackson when we really need him? If he were actually interested in the advancement of civil rights and respect for African Americans, he'd call for a boycott of this movie. Instead, he picks on one of the best black films of the year--Barbershop--a movie that actually tries to portray both the joys and difficulties of the black community, that tries to address in subtle and sophisticated ways issues the community faces. Why boycott that movie? Because Barbershop dares to poke fun at his image. Friday after Next reinforces vicious stereotypes, and not a word from the reverend. That hypocrisy is galling. Shame on you, Jesse, and shame on you, Ice Cube. Both of you should know better.   

J. Robert Parks  11/30/2002