But Hall is clearly a bold and idiosyncratic talent whose grasp will someday match his long reach. Their efforts are hampered by seemingly endless red tape, as they are shuffled from one office to another while being chased by drug dealers and the police. Reeling from near-slapstick to stark realism to gentle buddy comedy, it feels very much like the apprentice work it is. After a friend overdoses, Spoon and Stretch decide to kick their drug habits and attempt to enroll in a government detox program. Heady and enjoyable as it is, GRIDLOCK’d is also, in many ways, a disjointed, shambling mess. In a cockeyed but inspired narrative move, Hall supplements his two drugstore cowboys’ red-tape battles with an ongoing plotline in which they’re pursued by vice cops and a menacing local gangsta named D Reper (Hall in classic Superfly TNT ultrapimp attire) in scenes that feel like outtakes from some hazily recalled Seventies blaxploitation flick. Tim Roth, Thandie Newton, Howard Hesseman, Tupac Shakur, Charles Fleischer Duration. He more than holds his own with Roth, whose Stretch sometimes comes across as a pastiche of Tarantino lowlife characters. Displaying a wealth of subtlety, sweet-natured humor, and introspection that were almost wholly absent from his run-of-the-mill, G rap music, he leaves no doubt that acting was his dominant talent. The late Shakur is especially impressive as the brighter of the duo – a frazzled but infinitely patient character with a touching faith that somehow, if the pair just keeps plugging away, everything will turn out okay. Sad sacks though they are, Spoon and Stretch are also droll commentators on the perversity of a system that asks strung-out addicts to muster the discipline of Olympic decathletes in order to get help. Though Hall’s grungy urban tableau owes a lot to Tarantino and Scorsese, he also displays a uniquely jaundiced satirical vision that Céline and Kafka would heartily endorse. Stars: Tim Roth, Tupac Shakur, Thandie Newton, Charles Fleischer, Howard Hesseman, James Pickens Jr., John Sayles, Eric Payne. But there’s a lot more going on here than an earnest freshman civics thesis on the need for reform. After their friend nearly dies, two musicians decide to kick their drug addiction once and for all, but red tape blocks them at every turn.
Our byzantine, indigent health-care system seems a logical enough subject for the directing and writing debut of Vondie Curtis Hall, who’s best known as a regular on the TV medical drama Chicago Hope. Now comes the William Burroughs nightmare journey through a bureaucratic Inferno of interminable Medicaid approvals, lazy nitwit caseworkers, senseless regulations, and welfare offices that shift locations overnight like Saharan sand dunes. For their New Year’s resolutions, Stretch (Roth) and Spoon (Shakur) – two junkies who moonlight as jazz musicians when they aren’t copping, shooting up, or dragging OD’d friends to the emergency room – decide to kick heroin once and for all.