In honor of the 25th anniversary of the iconic film JUICE, Blavity was granted an exclusive interview by the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture with director Ernest Dickerson and one of the stars, Khalil Kain. This was in conjunction with the film’s screening at the Schomburg Center, and a follow-up panel discussion with Mr. Dickerson and cast members, moderated by Fab 5 Freddy. This conversation covers the legacy of the film, the importance of black art and thoughts on a young Tupac.
The free screening will be held on July 7th. You can get info here.
The people who starred in this film and the amount of cameos (Treach , Tupac, Queen Latifah , Samuel L. Jackson)… When you were making the film, did you have any idea that it would be a classic, or was it just a hope that it would do well at the box office?
Ernest Dickerson: I was just trying to make the best film that I could and put some people in there that would make it interesting. Yeah, we definitely wanted to make some money at the box office, because that means you can make more movies! I was totally surprised that it lasted this long.
Khalil Kain: I think in '91, there wasn’t a lot to see in the movie theaters. There was kind of this newfound resurgence of black film that was jumping off. Boyz n the Hood, New Jack City… So there was a little bit of excitement for me just to be able to get into the game. And really, my personality too, I don’t play to a lot of expectation. I had no way of preparing, even to this day, for what that film is.
The four boys, Raheim, Bishop, Steel and Quincy, had different narratives. Why do you think their stories resonated in the 90s, even though they were so diverse, and why the work continues to be a cultural classic affecting people today?
ED: Well, I think some of the things we touched on are still pertinent. One of the things that made us write the story was seeing the growing number of guns in the community. Guns are still a major problem not only in the African-American community, but in the US. And peer pressure—that’s something that drives all young people when you’re trying to figure out who you are and what kind of effect you have on your world. I guess we tapped into something that’s just a universal theme.
KK: I think all the characters are diverse, but all four of those characters live inside every young black male. Inside of every black person, really.
You’ve hit on how in '91/'92 there was a resurgence of black film. It seemed like in the '90s there were a plethora of black films with black actors and directors, and whether it was talking about gun violence or absentee fathers, there was still some social commentary. It seemed like that disappeared. Why did cultural movies vanish in the 2000s?
ED: Since the '90s, it has gotten tougher to make a film, but you do see some films getting made. Moonlight last year. Get Out, which is still dealing with cultural issues, but in a genre perspective, is interesting. It was a horror film about something, definitely something all black folk can relate to..
Yeah, I think Jordan Peele made the awesome comment that basically being black is scary. (laughs)
ED: It is! And I think there’s more room for films to be made in a genre perspective. More people will be interested in going to see it, and being educated on the sly. I hate to say it, but it’s almost as if black films went out of style for a while in the Hollywood community. Unfortunately, there are more excuses for why films shouldn’t be made, than why they should. And that’s why some of the best black films have been made in the independent arena.
KK : I would never place that onus on artists of color. It’s difficult to get a film made. There are stories that are written and ready to be produced, but there’s no money to do it, and the Hollywood machine has zero interest in producing. I remember when we made JUICE. I was really excited because I thought it was going to be sort of a vein or river to grow, and there were going to be more films and work for more artists of color. If you look at 2017 compared to 1992? It’s not even close. And all of those actors from back then are still working. Wesley Snipes is still working, Morris Chestnut, Larenz Tate… People come up and ask me all the time, “What are you doing?” I’m still out here. I’m writing. I’m doing plays. Some film. But it’s not like you can just pluck a film from the movie tree and it’s off in theaters. I think it’s started to open up a little bit because of Netflix, and there’re more outlets, and people are getting shots and doing wonderful stuff. Issa Rae, and Atlanta is the SH*T! With more opportunity, there will be more social commentary, but that hasn't been what the entertainment machine was trying to hear from us.
The hip-hop influence in the film is so heavy. It was made at a time when hip-hop was new and considered a fad, and Reagan put a hit out on it (because it was black). Obviously hip-hop is now so mainstream to the point of conversations of cultural exchange vs. appropriation. As someone who was there during the rise of hip-hop and made work rooted in it, how important, would you say, that even though black culture is now global, it still needs to be reflected in our work?
ED: Well, if you look at black folk throughout history, we’ve always been at the forefront of artistic movements. Jazz used to be considered a purely black art form, and now Jazz is played all over the world. The rhythms of jazz has influenced the world, and that’s the same as hip-hop. Hip-hop came out of the black community where people wanted to create music, but they didn’t have the money for musical instruments. So, they relied on the human voice. It’s just now that it’s become so corporatized, everyone wants to claim it for themselves.
KK: If it’s not reflected in our work, [our work] dies. I think that , especially here in America, if it’s anyway to make money off of anything, it’s going to get snatched up and bastardized. And that’s what happened to hip-hop. They’ve been able to sort of use it and mold it to be able to influence black youth. I don’t really recognize the hip hop culture that it’s being labeled as today. You can sort of point to artists and be able to demonize black people, or say, “look at how silly and ignorant black folks are.” Sometimes I’m looking at some of these artists and I’m thinking , “That's not representative of me, or me culturally, or me as a human being.”
Khalil, your father is iconic Gylan Kain, founding member of the legendary The Last Poets. Some have argued they are the founders of hip-hop. How did your father’s legacy impact your life and work?
KK: From first hand experience, I saw my father leave the country because of how capitalism was affecting his art. Part of the reason why there’s an Original Last Poets and Last Poets is because some lawyer came along and offered them money, and some took the money and some didn’t. I was able to see the commitment that he had to who he was, as an artist and as a man. I also saw the stress it took to live that, even to the detriment of his own life and own family. I’ve had every opportunity to be apart of the machine for money.
Mr. Dickerson, research shows me that you’re a student of Professor Haile Gerima of Howard University. Right now there’s Bradford Young or Hans Charles who works with Ava Duvernay often. Why do you think so many of his students do their thing?
ED: One of the things that Haile taught all of his students was that if you’re going to produce images, be responsible for the images you produce. I remember there was a film that Haile did where he took the credit and it wasn’t “directed by Haile Gerima.” The credit was, “Answerable.” He’s answerable for the movie. And all of us as filmmakers, we’re answerable for the films we make and the stories they tell. That’s one of the things he taught, that your images have power and you have to craft your images so that power is used correctly.
On Tupac: I don’t think that we’ve reconciled that he went to the Baltimore School of the Arts. He had dance classes and an acting agent. Tupac was a multi-dimensional artist, and the imagery is kind of stuck on him being a “gangsta rapper." In hindsight, what was it like getting to know Tupac, the young artist, before the “gangsta rap" image really solidified?
ED: All the gangsta bullsh*t that was perpetrated about Tupac, I never believed because I got to know him personally. When we were shooting JUICE, sometimes Tupac would see someone who looked like they were having problems, and he would always go over and talk to them. He was always open. He was always wanting to talk to people. The thing about Tupac is he was a student of the human condition. He was a student people. And while we were on set, he always had this notebook he would sit over in the corner and write in. I like to think that was the music we ultimately got to hear.
KK: That’s the only Tupac that ever existed. That’s one of the artists, a black man, that was committed to telling the truth. He was an artist, he was an entertainer, but he was definitely an activist. He was a socialist. He was very concerned about the plight of his people, and that’s why they embraced him. They could feel that it was a real love and concern that he had. And he spoke honestly, regularly, about it—again, to the detriment of his person.
Mr. Dickerson, I don’t know how often you’re on Instagram/Twitter but JUICE has made a resurgence culturally on the gif level. The scene where Raheim sneaks into the elevator after Quincy, just as the doors close, has taken on a life of its own. Are you aware or ever seen these?
ED: Nahh…a gif? It’s on Twitter?
(laughs) Yeah, I’ll have to send you some.
* Be sure to watch the recorded, accompanying livestream of the Schomburg's panel discussion here for more great insights.
