I wrote a few weeks back, you might recall, about sometimes seeing my life as a movie.
After watching a spate of recent films supposedly documenting the real lives of various public figures – the rich, famous, sometimes shameless – it got me to thinking about how much would need to be changed to make it a compelling story.
There's a new biopic about to hit called Notorious about my all-time favourite rap-star Christopher Wallace aka Biggie Smalls aka The Notorious B.I.G. After watching this biopic that was enjoyable to a degree, I can't help but question how much of this slice of history was actually His-Story. Biggie was undoubtedly one of the best wordsmiths in the game – he had the rhymes, swagger and charisma to battle the best and he rose very quickly to be arguably "the best that ever did it".
He had the street-life back story of being a hustler from the blocks in Brooklyn to captivate rap fans all over the world through his tunes, but tragically because of a spiralling rivalry with his one-time friend turned arch-nemesis Tupac Shakur, it brought about his untimely death. As you know, both of these giants of the rap game were shot down in their prime. Both high-profile crimes remain shrouded in controversy and conspiracy, and both cases are unsolved.
From my knowledge of Biggie's life, gleamed from following his story through his music, press articles and reels of documentary footage, I found myself surprised that the film attempts to show us a sanitised and idealistic version of who he was. Instead of showing us a larger-than- life character who was a raw street-player who could light up a room with his humour and presence, we are presented with an overly serious young guy who felt that he had
a mission to represent his hood and carry the weight of that responsibility on his broad shoulders.
The reality for all these guys is that they ultimately live and die by the sword, and as they rise up and become a money-making business they cannot shrug off the more negative trappings of their former lives, and in some ways that craziness gets more and more amplified the bigger they become. The other crucial fact in Big's story is that this film was the vision of his mother, and mums, by nature, only want the rose-tinted version of events to be shown. I dread to think if my mum ever produced a story of my life, what would make it on screen.
I guess my point is: why do we see the need to represent ourselves (and others) as not the sum of all of our parts? Take a minute to think about it for yourselves. If you had the chance for others to see you as you really are, would you be content to show both the good and the bad? Maybe "bad" is the wrong word… the "real you" is arguably a better question.
Speaking for myself (as I am privileged to do!) I would think that regular readers have a small picture of who I am. Much more than you get from my mug-shot, that's for sure! I force my thoughts, stories and opinions on you week by week and from the feedback I get, I can see that some of you really get it, some are irritated and infuriated by it, and some just don't care.
I really don't know who people really think I am, and am amazed by some of the conclusions that are drawn of me through the columns but I remain happy that I am able to express myself honestly without much editing. What I give and what you get is pretty much who I am and I don't care that the picture you paint for yourselves is a mix of bright and dark colours – a cocktail of Rothko, David LaChapelle and a character from one of Guy Ritchie's London movies (hopefully one of the better ones!).
With all these things you have to make up your own mind who anybody really is, and be prepared
to take anything that is presented to you with a huge handful of salt with the awareness that in some cases, some are trying to pull the wool over your eyes. In my case, I am trying to put a whole sheep on your head!
Baa-Baa-Black Sheep-ingly Yours
