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Youthful romance, healthy competition, all things good and clean: The focus in Love and Basketball is definitely the view from the suburbs, but in this film the middle-class search for success is African-American.
By STEVE PERSALL, Times Film Critic
© St. Petersburg Times, published April 21, 2000
Such run-of-the-mill movies are made all the time, but rarely with an African-American cast. Black filmmakers are still catching up in Hollywood, so every chance to make a movie urges something special. Most of the time, they turn out to be romanticized versions of economic extremes: thugs dealing drugs vs. high society.
Love and Basketball is about African-Americans in the middle: suburbs, rather than streets or penthouses. Their problems aren't violent or fluffy, just simple, predictable obstacles to happiness. This kind of story happens all the time in movies and mostly to white people.
Getting any major studio film about African-Americans made without sensationalism or moralizing can be interpreted as a step in the right direction. The most revolutionary aspect of Love and Basketball is how first-time writer-director Gina Prince-Bythewood embraces mainstream conventions, adding a little hip-hop vibe, but keeping things enjoyable for the Meg Ryan-Tom Hanks crowd.
The title spells out the premise of a romance divided into four quarters. The first introduces 11-year-old Quincy McCall, son of an NBA player and a whiz on driveway courts himself. The new kid on the block is Monica Wright, who earns fast respect for her own basketball skills. Quincy and Monica (played by cute child actors) share a sweet buddy-crush, sealed with a kiss more mandatory than passionate.
Second quarter: High school. Quincy and Monica are varsity stars. He has a scholarship to USC in the bag, and she is struggling to be accepted there. Quincy is a ladies' man, but Monica keeps a tomboy appearance and no interest in love. Until ...
The third and fourth quarters trace Monica and Quincy's fluctuating affection for each other, and their shifting basketball fortunes. Twists won't be revealed here; watching game replays when you know the final score is a drag. Nothing surprises except the script's avoidance of themes like drugs, guns and shady agents, cliches in these circumstances.
There are plenty of other cliches, to be sure. An appealing cast -- especially newcomer Sanaa Lathan -- keeps everything believable.
Lathan displays enormous promise as older Monica, with her gently expressive face and an ease of performance uncommon for a screen rookie. Prince-Bythewood created a nice dramatic arc for her role: Cinderella in high-tops. Lathan is convincing as both an adolescent gym rat and a female growing up proud of her womanhood.
Omar Epps plays older Quincy with confidence in his smooth talk and basketball moves. Epps doesn't have a role to match his range as with In Too Deep, but this isn't merely a pose job like The Mod Squad, either. Epps has a great smile, yet keeps Quincy brooding most of the time. He looks the part, but the part isn't that great.
Subplots involving Monica and Quincy's parents offer sketchy roles for three fine actors: Alfre Woodard, Dennis Haysbert and Debbi Morgan. Haysbert has the best material to work with as Quincy's philandering father and most ardent fan. Morgan and Woodard play the mothers as barometers for what the audience should be feeling at the time, stating the obvious and reacting to it.
Love and Basketball is serious about both pastimes, pulling us inside the head of a player driving to the basket, then pausing for a steamy breather of a kiss. If the movie occasionally drifts into a dramatic stall, so what? It's how Prince-Bythewood plays the Hollywood game that counts.