12 O’Clock Boys
There’s much to say about this broad piece on a slice of
urban life. There are elements in this
film that speak volumes about just about any issue you want to raise. There are characters who hold up well to the
scrutiny of an omnipresent camera. And there
are scenes that go far to present the challenges that exist for those living on
the margins.
But as a film, 12 O’Clock Boys falls far short. This is a very uneven film, with scenes
snipped together, segments that start abruptly, or end abruptly. Individuals pop up, unannounced, or
disappear, without further reference.
Central figures may reappear, but there’s little by way of introduction,
or story development. Other than the
spindly central character, Pug, a precocious, undersized, and self-absorbed 13
year old consumed by the lure of becoming one of Baltimore’s infamous 12 O’Clock
Boys, there’s no other central voice followed or tracked in the larger
community of dirt bike and ATV riders who take over city streets on Sunday
group rides.
Former art student Lotfy Nathan aims high, but delivers real
low with this story. He has regular
access to Pug, Pug’s incendiary yet frustrated mother, Coco, along with the
other members of Pug’s immediate and extended family. But we come and go from his house, from his
life, from his dreams, so many times, that critical elements of the story
before us pop up only as vignettes, fading out after a few short seconds.
The death of his older brother from an asthma attack would
have benefitted from more than just 30 seconds of open casket video. The appearance of a former Baltimore City cop
as part of an armed security detail needed more setup than the perspective of
one street rider. What happens following
the court appearance Coco repeatedly references? The ability of Pug to obtain bikes goes
without mention, despite his frustration at being unable to get a job. Independent voices from community leaders, school
teachers, even other former riders, would have done more to document the role
the Boys plays in communities across West and East Baltimore.
Even the most powerful moment in the film, which is used as
a spine, both starting and finishing the story, involves the filmmaker in a
role no documentarian would accept as legitimate in the making of a film. Nathan both drives the van that serves as the
vehicle used to transport Pug and a friend to the back yard of a house where he
successfully re-acquires his stolen motorcycle.
This isn’t documenting. It’s
contributing. It’s a line that
filmmakers, particularly documentarians, know not to cross. Even with the hardship, and the challenges we
see in Pug’s world, no excuse for this assist passes muster.
Still, 12 O’Clock Boys should be seen. It’s a powerful lens into a world virtually
no person knows exists in this country, yet it’s a world that exists in pockets
within many urban communities. Baltimore
is far from alone with its challenges, its divides, and its Pugs. And it’s a world that we should all see, not
only to bear witness, but to better understand.
If only the film rose to the level of the story it attempted to
tell.
Note: 12 O’Clock Boys
is short, at 76 minutes, and is playing a limited run at the West End Cinema in
NW DC. It is also available online.
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