|
|
||
|
Home
News Sections Action Arts & Entertainment Business Citrus County Columnists Floridian Hernando County Obituaries Opinion Pasco County State Tampa Bay World & Nation Featured areas AP The Wire Alive! Area Guide A-Z Index Classifieds Comics & Games Employment Health Forums Lottery Movies Police Report Real Estate Sports Stocks Weather What's New Weekly Sections Home & Garden Perspective Taste Tech Times Travel Weekend Other Sections Buccaneers College Football Devil Rays Lightning Ongoing Stories Photo Reprints Photo Review Seniority Web Specials Ybor City
Market Info Advertise with the Times Contact Us All Departments
|
TV feels the beat
By ERIC DEGGANS, Times TV Critic
© St. Petersburg Times
It may be one of the more innovative ideas on network TV this year: the first drama series focused on the inner workings of a rap record label. Producers of UPN's new series Platinum also have created the first black-centered network TV drama since CBS's ill-fated City of Angels in 2000. And director/producer Kevin Bray has a simple explanation for why the network of Star Trek and WWE Smackdown is taking the hip-hop plunge. "The reason this show got made is 8 Mile," said Bray, referring to white rapper Eminem's blockbuster debut movie, which earned $54-million its first weekend and has grossed $200-million worldwide, according to UPN press materials for Platinum. "The reason UPN stepped up was because hip-hop was qualified by that movie," said Bray, an experienced rap video director with more than 100 projects to his credit, including clips from the Fugees, De La Soul, Angie Stone, 'N Sync and Me'Shell Ndegeocello. "It was the combination of him, Nelly and Missy Elliott . . . you could hear the rumblings among the music critics. Here is music as complex as anything Daniel Lanois did for U2." UPN Entertainment president Dawn Ostroff echoed Bray's analysis. Sort of. "You look at the success of 8 Mile and you see that it is truly mainstream," said Ostroff, who rescued Platinum from TV oblivion when HBO and the Fox network passed on it. "You realize that 70 percent of hip-hop was bought by (ages) 18 to 34 Caucasian people. The stories are so universal, we think it will appeal to a wide range of people." Which explains the two forces bringing this project to network television. In one corner are co-creators John Ridley (Undercover Brother, Three Kings) and Sofia Coppola, who see an opportunity to explore cultural territory rarely excavated on network TV. On the other side are suits like Ostroff, who see an opportunity to snare the young eyeballs advertisers covet. What's that saying about strange bedfellows? "I was raised on Dallas and Falcon Crest, and it's an amazing thing . . . for African-American actors to finally be evolving to a time where we can be received the same (way)," said Lalanya Masters, who plays Monica, the wife of the show's lead character, Jackson Rhames. "We're in a society where the No. 1 golfer is African-American and the No. 1 rapper is Caucasian-American. So I think it's a perfect time for it." Platinum creates a plausible, fictional hip-hop universe without looking like a Mad TV caricature, focusing on Jackson and Grady Rhames, the brothers who run rap record label Sweetback Entertainment. Jackson, played by former Sunset Beach heartthrob Jason George, is the straitlaced brother who attends all the business meetings and plans the company's progress. Sticky Fingaz, onetime member of the rap group Onyx, plays Grady, a "thugged out," close-to-the-street character who thinks his sibling doesn't appreciate him enough. Together, the two are leading an empire on the verge. Their top artist, a white rapper from the Eminem mold named VersIs, shoots a rebellious video director in the hind parts (which becomes a running joke that can't be repeated in a family newspaper), costing them $75,000 to pay off the victim. They need cash to stave off creditors but refuse to sell their company to a big corporation. And the old-school rapper who might save their business by signing on must first leave a label that would rather beat down rival executives than see him go. Somewhere in the wide array of Platinum's influences is a touch of The Sopranos (one promo called the series "the drama of America's music Mafia"). Beyond the bursts of violence and family drama -- the brothers' sister, Jade, falls for VersIs in a plot twist worthy of Dynasty -- there's a carefully chosen hip-hop soundtrack that infuses nearly every scene the way Sopranos creator David Chase often uses rock music. (My only nitpick: No matter how much money producers spend, Toronto will never fully stand in for New York City.) Outsiders may call these situations outlandish and stereotypical. But as a former music writer who has heard the war stories from nervous publicists and label executives, this critic can vouch for the reality of such over-the-top episodes. "I went around and asked video directors what was the most outrageous stuff you ever saw," said Ridley, who also wrote a scene in which Grady's friends dangle a music magazine writer out a window and accidentally drop him. "That supposedly really happened with Vanilla Ice; that's how the guys in Death Row (Records) got him to sign over his royalty payments," the producer said, noting that Ice was only dangled, according to the stories. "Then, you add the moment where they actually drop him. And it just keeps going." As the showbiz legend goes, Coppola possibly got the idea for Platinum while her husband, Spike Jonze, was directing a posthumous Biggie Smalls video for Sean "P. Diddy" Combs' Bad Boy Entertainment. Coppola needed an experienced TV writer, so she prevailed upon her father, Francis Ford Coppola, to enlist Ridley, a veteran of series such as Third Watch and The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Three years later, both Coppolas were on board as executive producers, and Ridley was head writer/co-creator. Ridley, a prolific talent who is promoting his sixth novel (Those Who Walk in Darkness) and developing a screenplay based on the book with Matrix producer Joel Silver, is used to Hollywood disappointments. The lead character in his Three Kings movie was black until George Clooney wanted the part; Undercover Brother was much less of an Austin Powers-style blaxploitation movie parody before the studio process took hold. But so far, in Platinum, Ridley's vision has survived intact. "He's really trying to attempt a panorama of what it means to be African-American in this show," said Bray, referring to a dinner scene in which the brothers and their partner are laughing together but inwardly seething with frustration. "There's really deep stuff for the black folks: 'What are you giving up when you do become part of the system? What kind of angst does that create?' " For UPN, such a series makes sense. Its black-centered Monday night comedies are an oasis of steady ratings and advertiser revenue at a time whenTrek is struggling and the expensive Buffy the Vampire Slayer is finishing its final season. Platinum debuts Monday but shifts to its regular Tuesday time slot the next day. UPN executives hope it drags a little Monday love over to Tuesday, where fledgling comedy Abby has been slaughtered by Fox's youth viewer magnet, American Idol. To up the synergy factor, some of the music videos shown briefly on Platinum will air on sister cable network MTV (both are owned by Viacom). Platinum is part of a larger movement in the TV industry: recognizing the buying power of black viewers. People of color comprise one-third of UPN's 18-to-34 demographic, and 20 percent of Buffy's audience is black, as is 30 percent of Smackdown's viewers, Ostroff said. "When you really look at the viewers and how they're broken down, it's surprising how much blending there is," she said. "Our Monday night . . . creates an environment where viewers come in and stay the whole night, (so) it becomes a very valuable piece of real estate. The goal now is to make the programming flow from night to night." In addition to Platinum, black comic Wanda Sykes just debuted a series on Fox. Plus, there are two recent efforts to challenge BET's dominance as a black-centered cable network. Take them all together and television's desire to reach black and young urban viewers seems clear. Al Anderson, chairman and founder of Anderson Communications, which he said is the oldest African-American marketing and media company in the United States, cites one study showing black consumers' buying power at $640-billion. "And for major brands, the only real growth that can occur is in ethnic markets because they've been underexplored and underexploited," Anderson said. "So, you say, 'What is out there to reach black audiences?' " Focusing on hip-hop culture also makes sense, Anderson said, because young white consumers often follow cultural trends set by young black consumers. And advertisers want to grab potential customers early, the better to build brand loyalties before they've reached the age of 25, when most such decisions become engrained, he said. For now, Ridley hopes that all trends -- black, white and otherwise -- lead viewers to watch his series. "I would love to show the people who control the purse strings that white people have no problem enjoying black people on TV, outside of a comedy," he said. "To have a mainstream audience sit back and see fully rounded black characters on a TV drama . . . that's a powerful statement." -- To reach Eric Deggans, call (727) 893-8521 or e-mail deggans@sptimes.com
.
© St. Petersburg Times. All rights reserved. |
From the wire Floridian Travel |
||||||||||||||||||||
![]()