Spike Lee's telling of the sweltering summer of 1977 in New York, the year the Son of Sam murders gripped the city, is effective in transporting us to the era, especially with music references that span disco, pop, rock, and punk. It's also very well cast, with Mira Sorvino especially turning in a great performance, and John Leguizamo, Adrien Brody, and Jennifer Esposito all strong as well.
Lee's tale has the actually serial killer in the background, an interesting idea that allowed him to focus on the evils of the citizens in the neighborhood: little bits of racism and homophobia, a good dose of misogyny and the double standard in the attitude and philandering of a married guy (Leguizamo), and most effectively, the turning loose of the mob to both loot during the blackouts, and to target individuals unfairly deemed suspects in the killings, like the guy from the neighborhood who wants to be a punk rocker (Brody).
Unfortunately, Lee got a little overindulgent in focusing on these people, and aside from creating characters that sometimes seemed like shallow clichés, the script veered too often into sexual antics. The married couple going from his numerous affairs to her trying to please him through dressing up, asking for sexual advice, going to an orgy, etc felt like a little much. The friend who aside from wanting to be a punk rocker also dances provocatively and services men in a gay nightclub did too. You could say this is a hot mess of a film, and at 142 minutes, it went on too long.
With that said, I was always engaged, and found Lee's memory of this period (he was 20 in 1977) to have a certain intimacy, one with a refreshing darkness that contrasts the buoyant songs of the day, any semblance of sentimentality reserved only for his beloved New York Yankees. Speaking of which, I loved the lines speculating that the killer might be Reggie Jackson - the Son of Sam, Uncle Sam, New York Yankee wearing #44, the caliber of the handgun used.
Lee's tale has the actually serial killer in the background, an interesting idea that allowed him to focus on the evils of the citizens in the neighborhood: little bits of racism and homophobia, a good dose of misogyny and the double standard in the attitude and philandering of a married guy (Leguizamo), and most effectively, the turning loose of the mob to both loot during the blackouts, and to target individuals unfairly deemed suspects in the killings, like the guy from the neighborhood who wants to be a punk rocker (Brody).
Unfortunately, Lee got a little overindulgent in focusing on these people, and aside from creating characters that sometimes seemed like shallow clichés, the script veered too often into sexual antics. The married couple going from his numerous affairs to her trying to please him through dressing up, asking for sexual advice, going to an orgy, etc felt like a little much. The friend who aside from wanting to be a punk rocker also dances provocatively and services men in a gay nightclub did too. You could say this is a hot mess of a film, and at 142 minutes, it went on too long.
With that said, I was always engaged, and found Lee's memory of this period (he was 20 in 1977) to have a certain intimacy, one with a refreshing darkness that contrasts the buoyant songs of the day, any semblance of sentimentality reserved only for his beloved New York Yankees. Speaking of which, I loved the lines speculating that the killer might be Reggie Jackson - the Son of Sam, Uncle Sam, New York Yankee wearing #44, the caliber of the handgun used.