Roger Guenveur Smith

  • Influence (2020a)

    (On TV, April 2022) While Influence feels like a pilot for an upcoming TV series, it does have (unlike its BET+ original stablemate Sacrifice) the decency of delivering a complete plot, intriguing characters and just enough fun to offset the film’s problems. Adapted from a very different novel by Carl Weber, it introduces the Hudsons – a family of lawyers working together as a small law firm able to take on impossible odds and win. As the film begins, a music/acting superstar is found stabbed in bed, and the number one suspect is his wife, equally renowned as a singer/actress. It doesn’t take a long time to understand that this is going to be a blunt and awkward film, far from the polish of better productions: the on-the-nose opening sequence creates more questions than exposition, and this keeps going all the way to a botched ending with a blindingly obvious fact presented as an astonishing revelation, as well as a murderer whose identity makes no sense. Still, let’s be frank: I don’t watch BET movies for strong plots or filmmaking prowess: I watch it for the attractive actresses, interesting characters and general atmosphere. On those metrics, Influence certainly delivers. It’s simply a lot of fun, in-between quickly sketched but promising characters (see above for; feels like a pilot for a TV series), actresses such as Deborah Cox, Kellita Smith and Nadine Ellis (Influence not only features The Lingerie Scene familiar to nudity-averse BET originals, but it’s announced an hour before it happens), and a generally pleasant atmosphere halfway between cheap plot contrivances and blunt wish-fulfillment. Music, acting and expensive shopping figure as prominently as capable characters banding together for justice, a few alluring hints of hot romance, and sequences built more for cool than plausibility. It’s not subtle stuff – some plot revelations can be guessed an hour in advance simply by seeing how the straightforward narrative suddenly stops for a supposedly throwaway detail (Hmm, I wonder if those angel figurines commented upon by the detective will play a role later on…). Even the acting is limited by a script that doesn’t offer credible dialogue – as much as I like Roger Guenveur Smith, he’s saddled with lines unbecoming of his stature. Still, don’t get me wrong: I liked it. I would probably watch a TV series featuring these characters in further adventures (which doesn’t seem likely two years later). I realize I’m betraying the film criticism community for liking an objectively bad film, but there’s something hard to resist about BET+ original films: their earnest imperfection, maybe.

  • The Available Wife (2020)

    The Available Wife (2020)

    (On TV, September 2021) It’s not always easy to distinguish between a film that audaciously takes chances and one that simply doesn’t quite understand what it’s doing, and BET-broadcast The Available Wife had me more flummoxed than usual in its final moments. I suspect that part of the problem is how I first approached the film, expecting an upbeat drama and getting a glum thriller in return. Much of the plot revolves around a music company CEO who gets involved with a sexy/dangerous artist. If you’re expecting this to be a formula story of how a plucky woman manages to work her way up the industry and fend off threats to her marriage… The Available Wife has more on its mind. Perhaps too much. As director Jamal Hill advances the story, we steadily lose sympathy for a protagonist who blows up her marriage for a man who (predictably) proves to be violent and manipulating. It gets worse when the ellipse between prologue and early film is filled out to reveal that she slept and cheated her way to the ownership of the music company (first by sleeping with the owner, then by producing a fraudulent will). By the time the third act rolls by, with our protagonist having blown up her marriage, willingly allied herself with a dangerous criminal, ignored warnings from friends and family, and revealed to be a scheming fraudster, we’re left to wonder — why exactly are we supposed to cheer for her, or even care? You could argue that the early moments of The Available Wife, portraying the younger protagonist as an artist spouting familiar female empowerment messages, are a clever misdirection, aiming to pull the rug underneath us when the film becomes a tragedy of ambition. But that’s an insanely generous way of looking at things, considering that when you take a look at the film in retrospect, those early sequences absolutely do not pay off later on. Hence The Available Wife getting knocked down by ambitious genre-switching to simply a film that doesn’t know what it’s doing. It’s not that much of a stretch—any film that lets Roger Guenveur Smith overact so badly in a caricatural role is not a fine-tuned machine. I’m not saying that I disliked The Available Wife — it’s got swagger, some good technical credentials, pacing moves quickly (perhaps too quickly, as in an attempt to palm a few cards), and K. J. Smith is beautiful enough that the film doesn’t miss featuring a spectacular lingerie scene. But as promising as some of the elements can be (let’s face it — murder and betrayal at the top of the music industry sounds like a can’t miss premise), the execution is too scattered and uncontrolled to be effective. By the time The Available Wife’s final verdict comes down, the protagonist goes to prison and the audience can only applaud the decision — is this what the entire thing was really working to achieve?