Cut Throat City
More than a decade after the devastation of Hurricane Katrina, many of the visual scars on New Orleans have healed, but abundant socioeconomic obstacles remain.
Those themes lend a timely relevance to Cut Throat City, a gritty and evocative heist thriller that doubles as a relevant examination of racial identity and social despair.
The story takes us back to the storm’s aftermath in 2005, and specifically focuses on the working-class Lower Ninth Ward, which was among the hardest hit. Burdened by the federal government’s response to the destruction, Blink (Shameik Moore) tries unsuccessfully to land a job as a graphic artist, while his three boyhood friends — Miracle (Demetrius Shipp), Junior (Keean Johnson), and Andre (Denzel Whitaker) — are likewise stymied.
Anger fuels a sense of reckless desperation for the quartet who turn to a streetwise gangster (Tip “T.I.” Harris) for some quick cash. “Two things in this world I can’t stand — a lying-ass woman and a crying-ass man,” he warns them.
Naturally, the subsequent scheme to rob a casino lands them in more danger, not only from their ruthless boss but from authorities including a tenacious young cop (Eiza Gonzalez) and a city councilman (Ethan Hawke) with ulterior motives for wanting to clean up the neighborhood.
Alongside the requisite bullets and bravado, rookie screenwriter Paul Cuschieri explores the moral complexity of their actions without resorting to easy justifications or clear-cut black-versus-white motives. Instead, the only color that matters is green.
The third directorial effort from rapper and Wu-Tang Clan co-founder RZA (The Man With the Iron Fists) again showcases his versatility as a visual craftsman by conveying a vivid sense of time and place.
Despite its more conventional genre elements, the film is powerful beneath its formulaic surface. The richly textured script resonates with authenticity and generates hard-earned sympathy for Blink and his co-conspirators in the face of systematic oppression and corruption.
The younger actors establish a convincing rapport, especially in the film’s more lighthearted moments. And a first-rate supporting cast includes Wesley Snipes, and Terrence Howard in key periphery roles.
The provocative undercurrent in Cut Throat City suggests that greed, not racism, lies at the heart of the inequitable federal response to the crisis. The film is not always subtle about its message, but 15 years later, maybe that’s the point.
Rated R, 123 minutes.