PREMIERE.COM'S REVIEW (posted 7/26/05)

So you want to be a rap superstar? An underdog story if ever there was one, Hustle & Flow follows one humble street wretch's dream to quit scamming and "cross over" into the rap arena. To quote John Lennon, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans," and in DJay's case, that amounts to working as a small-time pimp in the North Memphis ghetto. Sure, chauffeuring the same old girls around pays the bills, but it's hardly a suitable outlet for his creativity.

It's not that this particular philosopher-pimp has anything especially profound to say ("Man ain't like a dog," DJay rambles in the opening scene, an acolyte of the Tarantino school of roundabout monologues that sound "cool" but mean nothing), but the music's already inside him, pounding nonstop in his head, and he can't possibly ignore it any longer. And when "the Cadillac's and gas money spent, will cause a whole lotta bitches jumpin' ship," he might as well cash in his trouble for a rap career.

When it comes to recording the demo tape, writer-director Craig Brewer captures the creative process as if it's happening for the first time. Even though the movie seems about 20 years overdue, Brewer harnesses all the energy and urgency of watching history in the making, putting a stylish new spin on material we've already seen in a dozen other movies and Behind the Music specials. He has a keen, sympathetic eye for Memphis' invisible underclass (as demonstrated by his solid yet sadly unavailable debut, The Poor and the Hungry), and DJay is just the kind of unsung antihero he excels at manipulating.

But the question remains: What's so special about DJay's story? 8 Mile worked because white boys don't rap, and Ray clicked because Charles couldn't see, but pimps don't have such a tough time with it (take Ice T, for example). A definite crowd-pleaser, Hustle & Flow has all the makings of a massive cultural phenomenon — if only audiences can get past the whole pimp thing. If not, they're missing an upbeat story with a mad hot soundtrack anchored by a can't-take-your-eyes-off-him performance from Crash's Terrence Howard. You think it ain't easy bein' a pimp? Try taking a despicable character capable of abandoning a mother and child and creating an inspirational icon that people will be quoting and imitating for years. That's one trick no one can whoop. —Peter Debruge