‘Paradise Records’ Review: Rapper Logic’s Anarchic Stoner Hangout Movie Brings Jay And Silent Bob Out Of Retirement – Tribeca Festival

American rapper Logic was born the year Richard Linklater’s Slacker came out, and, at the age of four, was thus unlikely to catch Kevin Smith’s Clerks when Miramax first released it back in 1994. Nevertheless, though the director cites Sidney Lumet’s Dog Day Afternoon as a prime source of inspiration, those two lowest-of-the-early-’90s-lo-fi films – with a dash of Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction too – are a much more apt comparison for his directing debut, a hangout movie set in a failing record store in the Greater Portland area.

The store is run by Cooper (Logic), who — in a surprise move for a rapper in a film that he wrote for himself to star in — is anything but cool, a Napoleon Dynamite lookalike who probably gives away more than he sells, as evidenced when he gives a J. Dilla record to a toddler, simply because his pretty mom smiles at him. The shop is staffed by relatives and friends; his right-hand man is his cousin T-man (Tramayne Hudson), with backup from the nerdy, Lord of the Rings-obsessed Tables (Reed Northrup) and the sensible, almost motherly Melanie (Mary Elizabeth Kelly). This is the reason he owes the bank $178,000, having insisted on paying all three of them for the duration of the pandemic.

The shadow of the pandemic, along with a mention of Reddit, is the biggest indicator that Logic’s film is set in the present day, since, like the record shop in High FidelityParadise Records seems to exist outside of time, with quaint handmade signs that say things like, “If you plan to shoplift, let us know.” Indeed, time does seem to stand still for a while in the opening moments, in which Cooper and T-Man trade insults based on the mixed-raced Logic’s pale skin. The n-word flies around a lot during this time, not all of it funny, though it’s hard not to laugh when Cooper describes his look as “incognegro”.

Things improve vastly when the story opens up to include the motley crew of characters that surround the store, including a statuesque drag queen and a dopey weed dealer named Slaydro (the always reliable Tony Revolori), currently under house arrest but seemingly unaware of the significance of the electronic tag on his ankle. Cooper’s stash has run out, but Slaydro comes to the rescue: “I never leave a brother dry,” he says, before whipping out a business card that simply says “Bob”. If you don’t know where this is going, you will when the film becomes black and white, and Cooper heads up a blind alley to be greeted by Jay and Silent Bob. Between them, they have all the goodies Cooper could wish for, from Blueberry Buttf*cker to the old favorite, Snoochie Boochies.

It’s a great tip of the hat to Smith, who edited and exec-produced, and Logic extends the Clerks reference with an escalating subplot that sees Paradise Records being used as a hideout by bank robbers who take the staff hostage. In the original cut of Clerksshopworker Dante was randomly shot and killed, a choice Smith rethought in the final edit. Logic doesn’t go quite as dark as that, but there are some entertainingly violent surprises, plus a terrific cameo from Joseph Gordon-Levitt as a maverick hostage negotiator. (And yes, a character even says, “I wasn’t even supposed to be here today,” as per the Clerks mantra.)

Surprisingly, though Logic’s own music features prominent on the film’s eclectic soundtrack, Paradise Records isn’t drowned in rap, and most audiences probably wouldn’t identify it as a hip-hop comedy. Not every joke lands, but there’s an anarchic charm here that’s even to be found in the chaos of the film’s overcooked ending, when Slaydro, tripping on acid, believes himself to be in a movie. “The Coen brothers know what they’re doing,” he says. “They cast good people.” Logic does too, and while his debut is a little rough around the edges — and certainly too long for the material and storyline — it’s a slick and enjoyable debut.

Title: Paradise Records
Festival: Tribeca (Spotlight Narrative)
Director/screenwriter: Logic
Cast: Logic, Tramayne Hudson, Reed Northrup, Mary Elizabeth Kelly
International sales: The Gersh Agency
Running time: 1 hr 46 mins