Life of rhyme

In the 2007 satire Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story, Judd Apatow poked fun at the clichéd plot points that appear in most music biopics, from Coal Miner’s Daughter to Ray. First, the performer has a difficult childhood (in Dewey’s case, he accidentally cuts his brother in two with a machete). Then, he or she finds their "authentic" songwriting voice, which speaks from the heart and is largely inspired by some emotional trauma. The subsequent road to the top involves hard work, which leads to gold records and untold wealth. Sadly, romantic turmoil and substance abuse are often the by-products of fame, leading the famous musician to wonder why he or she wanted to be famous in the first place.

Woolard's portrayal of Notorious B.I.G. goes beyond mere impersonation: he gives the role emotional depth, making Biggie, if not exactly likable, then at least sympathetic.

Most of these well-worn elements are present in Notorious, George Tillman Jr.’s film about rapper Notorious B.I.G. Despite its conventional plotline,  Notorious is highly entertaining, thanks largely to a great performance by Jamal Woolard in the central role.

Along with friend-turned-rival Tupac Shakur, Notorious B.I.G. (born Christopher Wallace, a.k.a. Biggie Smalls, a.k.a Big Poppa) basically ruled the hip-hop game in the mid-’90s. His first multi-platinum album, Ready to Die (1994), introduced millions of people to his incredibly smooth and agile rhymes, which sometimes dealt with his drug-dealing adolescence in Brooklyn. In March 1997, as he was about to release his follow-up, Life after Death, Biggie was murdered. He was just 24. The crime remains unsolved.

A music biopic’s success largely hinges on one question: does the actor sound and/or look like the real-life performer? Is he or she a convincing mimic? In this case, the answer is a resounding yes. Woolard is a revelation, his replication of Biggie’s unique lyrical phrasing spot-on. (The actor actually has his own rap career, performing under the moniker Gravy.) Woolard even nails the slight lisp in Biggie’s speaking voice. Indeed, his performance goes beyond mere impersonation: he gives the role an emotional depth, making Biggie, if not exactly likable, then at least sympathetic. It’s a tricky task when you’re playing a guy who cheated with impunity on a variety of girlfriends and, at one point, sold crack to a pregnant woman.

Biggie spent barely two and a half years at the top of the charts before he was gunned down. His career was a whirlwind of artistry, ambition, bling and violence. Consequently, director Tillman never really allows the camera to rest. Notorious is visually dazzling, especially during a concert scene set at Washington D.C.’s Howard University in 1992, which has a kinetic docu-feel and conveys the performer’s incredible magnetism.

Tillman also gets generally solid work from the supporting cast. In a small role, Anthony Mackie neatly captures Tupac Shakur’s charisma and powder-keg temper. Angela Bassett shines as Voletta Wallace, Biggie’s long-suffering yet devoted mother. As the mercurial recipients of Biggie’s affections, Antonique Smith (as Faith Evans) and Naturi Naughton (as Lil’ Kim) add considerable zing to the proceedings; Naughton’s performance suggests that hell hath no fury like a woman rapper scorned.

Considering he’s one of the creative and financial forces behind the film, it’s surprising that Biggie’s friend and producer Sean Combs (known in the ’90s as Puff Daddy) comes off as a bit of a bore. Derek Luke plays the Bad Boy label supremo, the single-minded entrepeneur who added a glossy commercial sheen and tasty samples to the rapper’s raw vocals. Luke delivers a bland performance and bears no resemblance to the real-life mogul. (But to his credit, he perfectly recreates Combs’ eccentric dance moves.)

The real-life Combs and Voletta Wallace were both involved as producers on Notorious, and sometimes you get the sense that this is a bit of a whitewash, an attempt to paint a sunny picture of some pretty grim subjects. For example, it’s tough to believe that Combs was quite so level-headed about the escalating gunplay and threats in the East Coast-West Coast rap rivalry, a conflict that almost certainly led to the murders of Shakur in Sept. 1996 and Biggie a few months later. The culture of violence that permeates hip hop receives much grittier scrutiny in Nick Broomfield’s 2002 documentary Biggie and Tupac than it does here.

Still, Notorious is an engaging primer on the rapid rise and fall of a profound poet, a guy barely out of his twenties who escaped the streets of Brooklyn’s Bedford-Stuyvesant neighbourhood — and then inspired open weeping and mass mourning on those same streets after his senseless death.

Notorious opens Jan. 16.

Greig Dymond writes about the arts for CBCNews.ca.