Sniffing Out the ‘Rhyme & Reason’ of Rap

Sometimes it’s hard to believe that hip-hop culture isn’t just about bright yellow crime scene police tape. Or courtrooms. Or illegal gun charges. Hip-hop, despite its commercialization, is a vibrant musical and sociological movement, one of the most essential and original forms of expression created by American youth. It’s a style of dress, a fluidity of movement and, for the host of multiracial kids buying records, watching movies and bumping along in cars, a full-fledged way of life. Miramax Films is releasing “Rhyme & Reason,” a documentary that shows rap music for the art form it really is, one that evolves despite the headline-grabbing violent incidents and the enormous sums of money it can generate. “Rhyme & Reason,” which opened Wednesday, isn’t the first documentary to follow the lives of the hip-hop generation, but it’s one of the most thorough. Filmed over three years, the film not only captures rappers like Ice-T, Method Man, Dr. Dre, Mack-10, Chuck D and a host of other stars in real life and performance, it also allows the artists the opportunity to put into context their craft with their own forthright words and mannerisms.

In the rush of stories involving the war of words (and sometimes threats) between East Coast and West Coast rappers, the trials and litigious tribulations of Death Row Records and the explosive popularity of gangsta rap, it’s easy to forget that this billion-dollar industry grew out of a group of kids spinning dusty funk records in the darkened parks of the South Bronx projects, stealing their electricity from nearby lampposts.

“I felt like rap and hip-hop were a very important movement, but I never saw it portrayed in the same way that I felt about it,” says “Rhyme & Reason” producer and director Peter Spirer.

Spirer, 33, who has directed music videos for rappers Queen Latifah and Public Enemy, was nominated for an Academy Award for his 1994 documentary “Blood Ties,” about censored photographer Sally Mann, and felt akin to hip-hop, in part, because of his experience with censorship issues.

“I just tried to capture the spirit of hip-hop as I saw it, to capture a piece of it, and shed new lights on the subjects--to get past the stereotypes, but not soften their words,” Spirer says.

“I wanted to make a film that was credible for the hip-hop audience, but at the same time was something that a kid’s father might be interested in as well. There’s a real void out there.”

Making the film wasn’t as easy a task as Spirer thought. What he had envisioned as a six-month venture turned into a three-year process.

“At the end of the first year I thought I was like, ‘Wait a minute, there’s a lot more I should go into.’ At the end of the second year, I realized I had too much from the East Coast. Plus, others were urging me to look more at the old-school origins of rap, not just at the rappers, but the importance of break-dancing and graffiti to the overall culture.”

Not only was Spirer faced with limited resources (he and production partner Charles X. Block self-financed the movie until Miramax pitched in; the total budget was about $120,000) but also with the fact there were so many rappers to interview, all with limited interest in actually letting a camera crew follow them around for hours and days on end.

“I shot this movie with an old ‘60s news camera, I did the lighting and all we had was a sound person and an assistant,” Spirer said. “I hooked up with a lot of the artists one on one, without their managers or the record labels, mostly through recommendations of other artists. Those rappers who don’t appear in the film, including MC Lyte, Queen Latifah, Snoop Doggy Dogg and a host of others, chose not to appear.

“We’ve had managers calling us since we’ve made the movie demanding to know ‘Why isn’t our artist in the film?’ and it was the same managers who two years ago flat out turned us down because they didn’t know who we were.”

As they began to film in New Jersey in 1994, they began with an unknown rapper named Diesel Don, who then introduced them to Lords of the Underground and Naughty by Nature. Soon after, Redman and Erick Sermon showed up. After they had a few stars, says Spirer, the documentary began to gain mass, like a rolling snowball.

“Dr. Dre said ‘no’ to us a bunch of times,” Spirer said, “but after he saw some footage, he gave us an interview the next day.”

Another person who saw some footage was Miramax senior vice president of production Helena Echegoyen, who was so impressed with the film, she became its executive producer.

“I felt that it covered a side of hip-hop that has never been seen before,” Echegoyen says. “The quality of the subject matter made it easy to convince [Miramax co-chairman Harvey Weinstein] to buy it. I feel that as young black people, we don’t always take the responsibility of archiving our innovations. If we don’t do it, the best-case scenario is that it will be written down by someone else, but the worst-case scenario is that it’s lost.”

So what exactly is the difference between rap and hip-hop?

“Rap is something that’s being done,” rapper KRS-One passionately explains toward the beginning of the film. “Hip-hop is something that’s being lived.”

“At its best, hip-hop music can grab the nation by its neck and make people realize what’s going on,” says former Arrested Development frontman Speech in the film. “It’s a voice for the oppressed people, who in many ways don’t have any other voice.”

One person who knows the difference, especially since he’s one of the art form’s parents, is old-school rapper Kurtis Blow, who’s a “Rhyme & Reason” associate producer. Blow was the first rap artist to sign to a major label, Mercury Records in 1980, and had a series of legendary hit records including “Basketball” and “If I Ruled the World,” which was recently remade by New York rapper Nas in his Grammy-nominated rap single. Blow, who has lived in Los Angeles for 13 years, has an old-school radio show on Power 106 (KPWR-FM 105.9) on Sunday nights.

“The people, even back then, knew it was something new and fresh,” Blow remembers, a smile curling his lips. “The people of Bronx and Harlem knew we are all a part of the same thing, so they cherished it because it was a rebellistic revolution against disco, first of all. We went back to the roots of R&B; and soul, and played it in a special way.

“I think ‘Rhyme & Reason’ gives a real expression of why we [rappers] do what we do. Some are in it for the love, some are in it for the fame and some are in it just because it’s something that can be positive. For what it’s worth, what the old school believed back in the day was making the world a better place. In the name of hip-hop, just enjoying music and being carefree, but doing the right thing, you know? Now it’s all about making money and paying bills. I think it’s time that we get back to the real essence of hip-hop.”

Ice-T, who appears extensively in the film, believes that “Rhyme & Reason’s” strength is its honesty.

“The movie just shows it how it is, no more, no less,” he says. “It’s not over the top, with a whole bunch of people acting or bragging. When you see Craig Mack, he’s washing dishes, Dre is in the studio and MC Eiht just kicking back. It’s real and, to me, that’s what makes it so fly.”

“It seems that right now a lot of people are condemning the art form without having any understanding of it whatsoever,” Block says. “ ‘Rhyme & Reason’ will open the eyes of a lot of people, showing them what it’s all really about.”