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Marc Levin’s Slam was digitally restored as a part of the Sundance Institute’s Archives & Collection program to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the film. We revisited and reviewed the film as part of the 2023 Sundance Film Festival.
The raw reality of street life and street people has been often explored in modern cinema. It is usually set as the premise for characters who somehow find a way out, and end up being cases of success in films that aren’t usually realistic in the end. Life isn’t a fairytale, and arcs aren’t cookie-cutter versions of what happens in reality. The truth is much more harsh and gritty, just like Slam shows from beginning to end. Happy endings aren’t always happy. Sometimes they’re just versions of fate.
In Marc Levin’s Slam, Raymond Joshua is a young man living in the South area of Washington D.C. He lives (or survives) in the streets, in the middle of violence, heat, and drugs. His love for rapping is intense, his lyrics resonate in this community, and people actually like listening to him. However, a drug deal gone wrong puts him in prison. He’s another imprisoned black man in a system that puts plea deals over justice any time. When he’s offered one of those deals, he puts the truth above everything.
In prison, his loyalty to himself is put to the test. He maintains his integrity by staying true to his principles of no snitching, or simply accepting doing time for unfair things. Prison becomes a dangerous place after he doesn’t accept the offers, but there’s a haven in the form of a writing class taught by someone who admires Raymond. This is where he begins exploring poetry as a way to cope, even after he’s unexpectedly released and must again face the realities of street life and being redeemed under unexpected circumstances.
Slam was shown in Sundance in 1998 and won the Grand Jury Prize. It spoke and resonated among audiences who expected the same old gritty film about thug life but got a more profound experience about the importance of art and how it transcends as a resource for humanity in the most brutal of places. Today, Slam is still a central piece in the discussion of how it can be a potential tool for undiscovered artists who are sadly immersed in a world that isn’t fair or forgiving.
This is a fairy tale, but it isn’t structured to follow the formula for dirty films that get clean after a character finds justice or redemption. In fact, the arc in Slam doesn’t conclude as we expected. Justice isn’t exactly delivered and freedom is relative. Ray’s journey has ended, or perhaps it’s just begun.
Slam made me remember two modern films that are actually very different from each other. Steps, starring the very underrated actor Rob Morgan, was a profound experience about life in the streets and redemption under harsh circumstances. Its rawness is equal to the effect of a greatly performed role for Morgan who’s responsible for the entire film. And also P.E.N.S. (Poetic Energy Needed in Society), a documentary about urban poetry and an artistic universe we simply don’t know enough about.
Those two films are very helpful in understanding the final message about Slam, a film that still after 25 years of its release, holds an organic power that’s not present in films today but was very relevant during the 90s. Sometimes, revisiting those films turns them into classics. Not because of who made them, or the times they were made in, but because of the story they tell and how relevant they are today.
Founder of Screentology. Member of the OFCS. RT Certified Critic
Dog dad.
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– Armessa Movie News