Mark Reviews Movies: CHARM CITY KINGS

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Review by Mark Dujsik | October 8, 2020

There's an energy to Charm City Kings that's undeniable. It isn't just the energy of Angel Manuel Soto's filmmaking, which captures the mounting escalation of a young teenager moving toward crime as well as it flaunts the risky, tantalizing freedom of racing a motorbike down the streets of West Baltimore. The story itself possesses a certain verve, too—of being young, of being uncertain, of grieving, of wanting to live up to the expectations that have been set before you as long as you can remember, even if it means giving up what you really want.

Mouse (Jahi Di'Allo Winston), as the 13-year-old protagonist has been called since he was a kid (for rescuing and keeping a mouse that was loose in the house), is caught between two worlds. One is his dream of becoming a veterinarian. The other is the life of motorbike showboating, of which his older, deceased brother was a part. Along with that second world, though, come some problems, beyond the risk of grievous harm or death from riding too fast and loose. His brother was part of a motorcycle gang, which doesn't just show off their skills whenever they can. They're criminals, too, and getting caught up in that is what resulted in the death of Mouse's brother.

The film isn't too concerned with plot, beyond Mouse trying to get a motorbike to call his own, to woo a new girl in the neighborhood, to make some in-roads with the gang to which his brother belonged, and to figure out what it really means to be a man. It's a coming-of-age story, mostly—more relaxed, more focused on the attitude and culture of the world Mouse wants to enter, more about internal struggle than external conflict (although there's plenty of that, especially in the third act). Soto and screenwriter Sherman Payne (taking inspiration from Lofty Nathan's 2013 documentary 12 O'Clock Boys) have crafted a convincing tale of life on uncertain streets and of a kid who isn't sure what wants—but knows he wants it right now.

It feels authentic. Mouse repeatedly watches a memorial video made in honor of his brother, showing off his most impressive stunts. The teen hangs out with his best friends Lamont (Donielle T. Hansley Jr.), who's obsessed with acting cool and looking tough, and Sweartagawd (Kezii Curtis), the origin of whose nickname we can gather from the way he won't stop talking.

The summer has arrived, and while he's working at a local animal hospital to learn the ropes, Mouse also buys a used four-wheeler, hoping to practice some tricks and maybe participate in the weekly street shows that have become a standard of summer in the neighborhood (Soto's use of long tracking shots during the stunt scenes and a chase sequence really offer a kinetic depiction of the freeing and dangerous thrill of riding). His mother Terri (Teyonah Parris), raising Mouse and his little sister on her own, disapproves, obviously. The mother lost one son to the streets, and she also knows too well that the process of the elder son's downfall began with riding.

For a while, the film simply finds its rhythm in the bantering between friends, the little adventures they have, the tension at home, and Mouse's desire to make something of his young life—torn between his own dream and the example set by his brother. He meets Nikki (Chandler DuPont), currently visiting her grandmother in town while her mother is getting into or out of trouble, and starts an innocent romance. Then, there are two men who either are or want to be like father figures to the kid. Blax (Meek Mill) is the former leader of the local Midnight Clique motorcycle gang who has just been released from prison and is determined to go straight. A police detective named Rivers (William Catlett) became Mouse's mentor about three years ago, and in seeing the boy's promise, he's determined to keep Mouse away from Blax and the gang.

The fascinating thing about this dual dynamic—between each of the men and Mouse—is that Blax, Rivers, and each man's goal really aren't at odds. Both men suspect each other's motives and actions, but in the end, they're two side of the same coin of looking out for Mouse, wanting what's best for him, and ensuring that he's not going to make the same mistakes as his brother.

The tension is more in their respective methods. Blax lets Mouse work in his auto shop, repairing a bike that the kid can have when the work is done, but Rivers knows what else has happened and is happening near the shop. Rivers keeps tabs on Mouse and gets him out of the petty trouble the teen gets into, but Blax believes the cop is stifling the boy's freedom and showing an intrinsic suspicion in the kid that he doesn't deserve.

What eventually unfolds—as the friends see the gang and, later, their own initiative as the real way of making money, getting a motorbike, and proving that they're not little boys but men—is to be expected. In taking their time with this character and his feeling of being pulled in so many directions about what his life should be, Soto and Payne give us a sense of how every one of Mouse's choices ultimately doesn't feel like a choice at all. Winston's performance, which is so adept in showing Mouse's external boastfulness as a shield for his vulnerability, solidifies that feeling.

On the surface, Charm City Kings is energetic. Beneath that, though, it's also a thoughtful film about a kid trying to find his own path.

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