'Idlewild' doesn't stay on track



Thursday, August 24, 2006 The film's director has worked with the two stars in shooting their videos. By BETSY PICKLE KANSAS CITY STAR "Idlewild" wants to bring back the musical but bust open the genre. It's successful — in part. "Idlewild" stars the two members of OutKast — Andre Benjamin and Antwan A. Patton, aka Andre 3000 and Big Boi — and it's the OutKast musical sensibility that flavors the film. Since "Idlewild" is set in 1930s Georgia and OutKast's sound is unmistakably contemporary, some viewers may have trouble reconciling the disjointed eras. Music isn't the only anachronism, and actually it's one of the least distracting ones. There are phrases and whole lines of dialogue that break the period mood. What it's about "Idlewild" tells the parallel stories of Percival (Benjamin) and Rooster (Patton), who've been best friends since childhood. Percival is the shy son of a stern mortician, Percival Senior (Ben Vereen), while outgoing Rooster comes from a family of bootleggers. Percy's favorite lessons as a child were at the piano, and ignoring his father's protests, he flees the funeral home at night to play piano at an anything-goes nightclub called Church. Rooster, who is the club's most popular performer (on stage and off), got Percy the gig despite the reservations of the club's owner, Sunshine Ace (Faizon Love). After Rooster witnesses a brutal double homicide, he has to keep new gangster boss Trumpy (Terrence Howard) from discovering what he saw. He also has to manage the club, in addition to singing there. And on top of that, he has to convince his justifiably suspicious wife, Zora (Malinda Williams), he's working at night, not fooling around. Percy's inner conflict between working as a mortician and pursuing his music flares when a guest singer, the beautiful Angel Davenport (Paula Patton), arrives. Unlike Rooster, Percy is no ladies' man, and the feelings he develops for Angel are life altering. Knowing the stars Director Bryan Barber, making his feature debut after creating countless music videos for OutKast and others, comes to the film with a deep familiarity with his stars and a strong commitment to the script, which he wrote. He wants the film to be as eye-popping as his videos. Many of the costumes are outrageous. There are musical notes leaping around on scores and cuckoo clocks that seem more than usually animated. Rooster inherits a flask that talks to him. Things are intentionally surreal. With another director, some of the quirky camera angles would seem like a film-school grad showing off, but Barber piles them on so high that they just blend into the bizarreness. Unfortunately, the film doesn't maintain its momentum. Some patches are invigorating and fresh, while others are predictable and dull. There's nothing wrong with the OutKast duo's acting, but it can seem listless next to Howard or Ving Rhames (as Spats). The musical numbers and vibrant choreography are enjoyable, at least until the end when OutKast and Barber blow it on the song Percy sings to Angel. It's curiously subdued when it needs to hit a passionate peak.