For those familiar with the controversial life and tragic end of American rapper, lyricist and actor Tupac Shakur, the biographical drama All Eyez on Me would be a long and exhausting exercise in identifying the various episodes shown on-screen and matching them to the true story. The filmmaker, Benny Boom, keeps you on your toes with this task by lending a frustratingly staccato rhythm to the film. All Eyez on Me is smug about the popularity about Tupac’s turbulent story and makes little effort to build a cohesive narrative to usher in the uninitiated.
As if that wasn’t enough, the Censor Board adds to the bewilderment of those unaware about Shakur, by going completely bonkers with their scissors. Dialogues are brutally muted and scenes are violently chopped, making portions of the film seem almost incomprehensible. An artist who rose from the dust and wrote songs about violence in American inner cities, racism and black rights, is bound to use ghetto lingo and slang speak in abundance, both in rage and otherwise. The Censor Board strategically eliminates them all, but at some points gives up and erratically retains a cuss word or two, in the two hour 20 minute long film.
The rap artist’s rise to superstardom lacks no drama. From finding his artistic roots in the political activism of his parents to being imprisoned on sexual assault charges, Shakur – with stage names such as 2Pac, Makaveli, and Pac – lived a life meant to be depicted on film. Unfortunately All Eyez on Me treats the political underpinning of his early life rather flippantly and races at a supersonic pace to show him as a popular rapper. Although the filmmaker constantly emphasises the role of his mother in the foundation of his morals and worldview – which make him stand out as a politically charged musician and actor – it fails to reflect the same in his actions, especially in the latter half of the film. His relationship with his mother only leaves us with some scenes of warmth and affection, while it could have transcended into much more.
Since All Eyez on Me is a feature film and not a documentary, it has no obligation to be objective. One even expects it to take sides and tell us more than mere facts (and in Shakur’s life, a lot of them were murky). The film, in that regard, sets out with an intention of whitewashing the often misunderstood Shakur and hails him in almost every way possible. To an extent that it irresponsibly slut shames the woman involved in Shakur’s 1993 sexual assault case.
Despite a spot-on casting in terms of resemblance to the real personalities, the actors oscillate between over-dramatisation and stoicism. Demetrius Shipp Jr., who makes his acting debut, is perfectly cast as Shakur but fails to embody the capricious personality of the rapper.
What’s utterly disheartening is the sheer potential this film has, with such a power-packed personality at its centre. The combination of a biopic, race, politics and music is a potent one. With something as basic as having a smooth flowing narrative, the film could have easily walked home with a bagful and be a gripping ode to Shakur’s legacy. But I guess, as the artist himself famously sang, only God can judge him.
