SYNOPSIS: The directorial debut of “X-Men” star James McAvoy, “California Schemin’” is based on the true story of a Scottish hip hop act who pretended to be American to get a record deal.
CAST: Séamus McLean Ross, Samuel Bottomley, Lucy Halliday, James Corden, Rebekah Murrell. Directed by James McAvoy.
REVIEW: “California Schemin’” is a rowdy, stranger-than-fiction music bio that provides tons of fun but is also a cautionary tale of the toxic side of ambition.
The story of Billy “Silibil” Boyd (Samuel Bottomley) and Gavin “Brains” Bain (Séamus McLean Ross), two Scottish B-boys with a shared love of hip hop and skateboard culture, begins with a failed audition for a London talent show. They bare incensed when talent reps laugh them off the stage who call them “the rapping Proclaimers.”
Flat broke but determined to perform, they create an American persona, despite never having been to the States. Renaming themselves Silibil N’ Brains and dropping their Scottish accents in favor of some vaguely Valley Girl affectation, they claim to be from someplace called San Diangeles. “You actually sound American,” says Mary (Lucy Halliday). “You sound, like, entitled!”
Their new image catches the eye of a record label run by a guy (James McAvoy) who thinks they could be the next Beastie Boys or Eminem. “We’ll release a single and then we’ll come out fully Scottish and expose those wankers.”
Introduced to the world of studio sessions, appearances on MTV and groupies, success comes quickly, but their faux American dream quickly unravels. Fame and money put a wedge between the two friends as Gavin embraces he trappings of the music biz in a way that endangers Billy’s real love, his girlfriend Mary.
The well documented story—both in the documentary “The Great Hip Hop Hoax” and Gavin’s memoir—“California Schemin’” is a gritty music bio about identity and image that succeeds through its exuberance and engaging lead performances.
As the duo who Trojan Horsed themselves into the record biz, Ross and Bottomley are a boisterous pair. Underdogs who’ll do almost anything to get a leg up, they have great chemistry and which raises the stakes when things begin to sour between them.
“California Schemin’” falters here and there—a James Cordon cameo as a music executive doesn’t work well—and the ending doesn’t bring the intended feelgood vibe, but overall, with its infectious working-class spirit à la “Wild Rose,” it succeeds.
“Blue Jean” is a new British period drama, set in 1988 at the time of Margaret Thatcher’s Section 28, that feels unsettling in its timeliness.
Set in working class Newcastle, and told against a backdrop of news reports detailing Prime Minister Thatcher’s Section 28, a new law which would “prohibit the promotion of homosexuality,” the movie stars Rosy McEwen as Jean Newman. She is a gay high school physical education teacher who is out in her day-to-day life, but closeted at work. “You have to create boundaries as teachers,” she says. “it’s part of the job. If anyone found out, I‘d never work again.”
Her off hours are spent at home or at the local gay/lesbian bar, a smoky pool hall where she can be open with girlfriend Viv (Kerrie Hayes).
The line between her personal and profession life begins to fade when a new student Lois (Lucy Halliday) joins Jean’s class. As Lois navigates her way in unfamiliar surroundings, Jean encourages her to play basketball, but the newcomer is bullied before, during and after every game. Jean suspects Lois is a lesbian, but, despite Viv’s disappointment, doesn’t confide in her.
“What kind of example are you setting for her?” asks Viv. “How is that girl going to learn if she has a place in this world?”
When the underage Lois shows up at the local gay bar, Jean feels exposed; afraid that her secret will be revealed.
In an early scene in “Blue Jean” Jean asks her class if they know what “fight or flight means.” It is, she says, how the body responds before the brain has even thought about it. It is that flight response to Lois that informs jean’s initial reaction to being outed, before a wave of self-reckoning sweeps over her.
Vividly brought to life by McEwen, who makes her big screen debut here, Jean’s instinctual need to preserve her job conflicts with her heart. McEwan’s star-making performance guides the character through the self-recrimination, heartache and ultimately relief necessary to bring this low-key story to vibrant life.
“Blue Jean” is a harrowing but tender study in identity, that blends a personal story with a political and societal one. Set decades ago, it is unfortunately timely, given recent events, in its portrayal of oppression of rights and casual homophobia, but still, a quiet heartbeat of rebellion pulses within as Jean marches toward self-actualization.
