Printer-friendly version »

Movie Review: Biggie and Tupac

Documentary claims Suge Knight is responsible for both murders.

by Douglas Passion | 2002.10.19

Hiphop never fully recovered from the murders of The Notorious B.I.G. and Tupac Shakur. Although a plethora of rappers have attempted to fill their sizable gators by approximating the images, lyrics, vocal intonations and mannerisms of the fallen duo, the unsettling cloud of confusion caused by the police’s failure to solve either of the shootings still hangs heavy. Nick Broomfield’s ambitious documentary, Biggie and Tupac, attempts to clear the air by proposing a shocking premise: Death Row Records’ CEO Suge Knight orchestrated both murders.

Broomfield, best known for his documentary Kurt and Courtney, has had his methods of journalism questioned in the past. But even a sensationalist is capable of good work, and Biggie and Tupac succeeds as both an entertaining and convincing film.

Although he is more visible throughout the film than the traditional documentary filmmaker, Broomfield’s persona is the reason Biggie and Tupac manages to unearth more sensitive information than any of the countless journalists who have covered these stories in the past. He is relentless without being rabid, comical without being clownish. Considering the serious nature of the investigation, the amount of material Broomfield convinces people to divulge is nothing short of amazing. He wields the boom mic like the sword of Damocles over Knight’s thick neck.

The most important person Broomfield interviews is Russell Poole, a former LAPD detective who resigned from the force after alleging the department was covering up the involvement of dirty cops in Biggie’s murder. Broomfield’s efforts to speak with Poole are originally stymied by Poole’s slimy lawyer, but persistence pays off, and the former policeman provides valuable insight into the failures of the murder investigations. Even after so many well-publicized incidents of sleaziness, the threshold of corruption of which the LAPD is capable is still shocking.

Biggie’s mother, Violetta Wallace, is one of the few interviewees who is not on film to reveal parts of the murderous web of conspiracy. Rather, her role is a sympathetic one – the tormented mother of the slain, who wants nothing more than to see justice delivered for her beloved. Wallace’s clout amongst Biggie’s circle of friends is impressive. Lil Cease appears at her beckoning and Biggie’s former bodyguard states that only Wallace’s pleas have convinced him to talk to Broomfield. Biggie and Tupac makes an attempt to humanize both of the victims by presenting the remembrances of family and friends, but out of all those interviewed, Wallace is by far the most emotionally endearing.

Perhaps the most enjoyable element of the film is its sense of humor. The subject matter is grim, but Broomfield’s ability to make people squirm when a boom mic is thrust in their face is a constant sense of comedy. A video camera, tough questions and a bloodthirsty CEO sow the seeds for plenty of pregnant pauses.

The fear of reprisal from Knight is etched on many of the interviewees’ faces. As an incarcerated Death Row bookkeeper who claims to have wired money interstate for the purposes of funding the attempt on Biggie’s life says of Knight: “I knew he was someone that demanded respect.” After most of the film is spent detailing the intricacies of the murder plots, Broomfield finally take us inside a maximum-security prison to meet Knight face-to-face. Knight’s time spent on-screen is fairly innocuous, but the aura of violence and domination that surrounds him is undeniable. Even the warden approaches Knight with extreme trepidation.

Members of the audience relatively unfamiliar with the stories of the two fallen rappers will find that Broomfield’s documentary contains enough journalistic firepower and unanticipated laughs to make the film worthwhile. But for followers of hiphop, Biggie and Tupacis a necessary two-hour investment. If Broomfield’s findings are accurate, the deaths of The Notorious B.I.G. and Tupac Shakur have been trumpeted for too long as an example of the consequences of an on-record feud gone haywire. And if the allegations are true, Knight should unquestionably be regarded as the most hated man in the history of hiphop.

Read more articles in Arts »