Directed By Boots Riley

Starring – Keke Palmer, Lakeith Stanfield, Demi Moore

The Plot – A group of shoplifters (Palmer, Naomi Ackie, Taylour Paige) take aim at a cutthroat fashion maven (Moore) by stealing her clothes and reselling them at a lower price, what they call “fashion-forward philanthropy.”

Rated R for strong sexual content, nudity, adult language throughout and brief drug use.

I LOVE BOOSTERS – Official Trailer – Only In Theaters May 22

POSITIVES

Eight years after Boots Riley burst onto the cinematic scene with an artistically enamoring and poignantly profound directorial debut, Sorry to Bother You, he doubles down on the chaotic sensibilities of his one of a kind maximalist expressionism, and as a result I Love Boosters is not only a scathing cautionary dissection towards capitalism’s outdated model, and the importance of reclaiming creativity, but also an audaciously absurdist exploit of modern class warfare seen through the eyes of Riley’s manically mesmerizing aesthetic, which helps keep the atmosphere engaging, despite the overbearing heft of what’s being discussed in the thematic impulses of the screenplay. Simply put, Riley directs the hell out of this movie, with so much creative imagination unloaded in the realized vision of this intoxicating canvas, not only with vibrantly luminating color schemes in the coordination between costume designs, set decoration, and lighting, which flourish such a valued meaning to the varietal pallet of our indulgence with much-appreciated Panavision enriching them brighter than expected, but also ambitious experimentation in captivating schemes of depicted capture that pushes the boundaries, capabilities, and tangibility of visual storytelling further before, at a time when picture perfect C.G is dominating the landscape, with every bold artistic impulse feeding seamlessly into the uncontrollable chaos of Riley’s intended articulation, without anything even closely resembling predictability in any confines of this movie’s unloaded effort. When I wasn’t mesmerized by candy-coated coloring of luminous radiance, I was held captive in place by miniature sets, stop motion animation, and long pan close-ups during character isolation that speak volumes of Riley’s richly expansive influences in his cinematic upbringing, and while aspects like these could certainly make the movie feel cheap or distracting on the sheer magnitude of their influence over the scenes that utilize them, they add to this disorienting surrealism in Riley’s world-building that delves deeper into the depravity the more that the script uncovers within the intentions of its mission, leading to some unforeseen big reveals that pushes the film to the furthest extent of the Twilight Zone in more ways than one. While Riley’s signature style certainly permeates with an overpoweringly pungent influence that leaves audiences stunned by every artistic effort that flourishes such a meticulous precision in each and every frame, there’s actually just as much time and creative effort paid to the extent of his observational exploits of a world devoured by materialism that help unearth some sizzling social commentary in the opportunistic impulse, featuring just enough biting truth and contemporary relevance in the spoofing of the material to attain some much-needed laughter to the tough love that Boots is constantly dishing out. As a result, Riley’s extensive scope is actually quite impressive in the multitude of responsible parties that he continuously takes aim at, with those running backyard Ponzi schemes and unsanitary sweatshops being labeled just as much responsible contributors to the societal decay as Demi Moore’s fashion visionary maven overpricing such evidently unappealing threads in-store, and while the dissection effectively utilizes the kind of small doses of satirical spoofing that situationally brandish humility for our centralized protagonists, it was honestly those brief intrusions among mindless outsiders on the news that produced the loudest and most consistent laughter of my experience with the film, especially those pushing an unpopular narrative, in order to illustrate an unrealistic scenario that less is more in a struggling society. On its own with these compelling elements, the film would be enticing enough to keep me thoroughly invested throughout its 100-minute runtime, but it’s made all the more culturally relevant and firmly focused once an unlikely futuristic plot device is introduced into the fray, around the midway point of the narrative, and that’s where it truly feels like the film unlocks its lasting power potential in the memorability of its audience, particularly with some clever redistributions of a product’s captured origin that proves how the lack of enacted action between Moore’s fashion designer and the poverty-stricken boosters that continuously rob her. As a result, Riley doesn’t entirely feel like he condemns Moore’s character entirely, as she’s grounded enough to realize the air of her irresponsibility, but rather institutes a desire for change in a the bigger picture of a world that divides us exploitatively by deducing one to elevate another, and considering fashion trends are among the most obvious examples of financial advantage, it allows the clothes themself to become this overarching metaphor for reaffirmation that makes this feel increasingly more personal than most heist movies, especially since the year’s best ensemble are giving their all to realize Riley’s rambunctious vision, with conductive characters who are brought to life with so many meaningful performances between them that it feels impossible to highlight one over the other. In a film so fantastically executed, Keke Palmer humbles as Corvette, instituting razor sharp charisma and underlining empathy to make her an ideally endearing lead to the moral dexterity that threatens the clarity of these character’s concise impulses, elevated increasingly by Demi Moore’s snappily snarky antagonistic role that revels in hand language and remorselessness, that she weaponizes to eviscerate any semblance of persisting humanity internally. Eiza Gonzalez and Lakeith Stanfield also give career-defining performances in small doses, with the former’s store employee stoner character offering a laidback contrast to the energetic performances surrounding her, with Eiza occasionally serving as the graspable hands conveying the bigger picture before these ladies, and the latter seemingly enacting his best Prince impression within a texturally rumbling canvas, in order to convey the intensely all-consuming and vampiric essence of toxic relationships and lust. As previously indicated, Stanfield’s screentime stunts him to nearly feeling like a cameo to the film’s bigger picture, but his influence feels so unmeasurable during those influential moments when he unpredictably weaves back into frame, staring a hole into our soul with unwavering persistence so effortlessly arrogant that he lays a spell of seductiveness at the eyes and ears of any helpless woman he comes into direct contact with, solidifying another meaningful partnership between he and Boots, which is starting to feel on the level of Ryan Coogler and Michael B. Jordan.

NEGATIVES

Much of Boots’ execution here shows an increasingly elevated work level that allows him to emphatically avoid a sophomore slump, however the linear link between this and Sorry to Bother You seems to be an unrestrained ambition towards thematic impulses, the inconsistency of which aren’t entirely realized with the kind of faithful persistence to make them feel like a prominent dissection in a movie that goes out of its way to include them. There are a couple of noteworthy examples pertaining to the lack of development in the trio of friends that lead our protagonist dynamic, but the most glaring among them seems to pertain to a tacked-on arc involving the aforementioned Lakeith Stanfield, whose character relevance grows all the less impactful to the mechanics of the plot the longer that the film delves into its second hour. As previously commended, Stanfield does remarkable in the limitation, but it never feels like his character has a clearly concise path in the movie’s long haul, and as a result leaves the film feeling overwhelmed throughout its third act, especially once the dialogue works overtime to explain so much of what’s transpiring to the audience. It’s somewhat forgivable that a movie this creatively elaborate requires some exposition to articulate connective cohesiveness to at least some degree of the audience who will inevitably have difficulty following along, but I always felt like the visuals effectively articulated the intention of Riley’s creative direction, and as a result much of the obvious detectability of the characters acting as eyes and ears for the audience detracted from some of my vested interest in the later conversations, making I Love Boosters feel like it’s constantly working to catch up in some thematic delves that eventually get away from it. On top of this, my only other problem with the film pertained to some of the stacking of the strange visuals and evolutions of the plot, which admittedly felt overindulgent in some sequences drowning on a bit longer than necessary when compared to the fluidity of others. As someone who loves experimental cinema, as a major David Lynch and Nicholas Winding Refn fan, I am not above exploring gross out gags and ridiculousness to a conflict that inspires it, but some necessary creative restrain could certainly help brandish a maintained consistency among the comedic effectiveness, especially considering Riley’s breakneck pacing during the first two acts allows very little time for the stakes of these periodic impacts to properly set in, leaving too much eagerness in the opportunity that periodically comes to define Boots’ honorable intentions.

OVERALL
I Love Boosters is a candy-coated masterclass of surgical execution so artistically enamoring and pungently profound that it pushes the limitations of cinema a bit further with Boots Riley’s maximalist expressionism unloading such a boldly unique and distinct vision to this surrealistic heist comedy. While the film ambitiously attempts too much in the extent of its urgent runtime, leaving unfulfilled arcs abandoned by its elaborately layered bigger picture, the film finds its way dissecting the evidential flaws of capitalism and survivalism, that feel more relevant than ever in a post-Covid landscape, made all the more engrossing with an electric ensemble boosting the attention of the audience with supercharged performances that play wildly to Riley’s arresting energies

My Grade: 8.6 or A-