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They Cloned Tyrone Airs a Novel Vision of White Supremacy


They Cloned Tyrone never takes advantage of it’s truly inspired title. Never is it quoted in the movie, no main character is even named Tyrone -it just seems a wasted opportunity. But what is reflected by it is the tone, which does largely live up to its attitude and eccentric implications. And that’s probably the most important thing. They Cloned Tyrone was a Black List script from 2019 by Tony Rettenmaier and Juel Taylor, and I don’t think it was a coincidence the movie was thought up within that proximity to Boots Riley’s Sorry to Bother You and to a lesser extent Jordan Peele’s first two films. Because the movie as it ultimately turned out is in that same vein of racially charged social satires containing sci-fi elements and a dark edge. The added ingredient to set this film apart though is the pronounced aesthetics and language of Blacksploitation, which is not a bad context for such subjects and themes given the history of that momentary subgenre’s commitment to overturning systems of white supremacy.
Taylor directs the film, set in a nondescript low-income black neighbourhood called the Glen where various drug dealers and sex workers interact daily in a manner that is suspiciously routine. Every morning Fontaine (John Boyega) taps on his reclusive mother’s bedroom door to check she’s awake, buys a lottery ticket from the convenience store, and gives some of his drink to a homeless old man. This night, after a motel room confrontation with a pimp Slick Charles (Jamie Foxx) over money he owes, Fontaine is gunned down in his car by a rival gang –only to wake up in his bed next morning. With everybody shocked to find him still alive and he none the wiser, Fontaine with Slick Charles and one of his clients Yo-Yo (Teyonah Parris) starts investigating a potential government conspiracy.
A lot of the fun of the movie comes from this heightened tone and these personalities interacting with the context of a sci-fi mystery premise. It’s a fresh meshing of genres that is just immediately compelling –the first images released from the film spoke to that specifically: colourful characters who looked like they belonged in the world of Foxy Brown in a high-tech industrial lab. And substantively the movie does deliver well on that contrast while staying true to the traditions of the style being emulated. Obviously, there’s not the same level of sex, violence, and stereotypes that you would find in the Blacksploitation hits of the 1970s, but the characters’ broadness and vulgarity is still emphasized as they function in this absurdist contemporary context. The way they delve into the cover-up, consider clues, and respond to several abnormal situations that reveal hostile tendrils through their community is all creatively and thrillingly expressed. It amounts to a particular charm reminiscent of Attack the Block –a comparison amplified by the presence of Boyega- or to a lesser degree the boisterous Polite Society from earlier this year.
And the actors take to the concept with tangible enthusiasm. Delivering his lines through grills, Boyega gives a pretty fine performance, as he shoulders the heavier material in terms of drama and action, as well as a few additional parts, but lets a certain lightness and humour shine too of a variety he hasn’t touched before. Foxx seems very much in his element in his gaudy fashion and rapid-fire dialogue, but Parris is probably the most impressive of the three, following up her WandaVision success with a reminder of her range. Kiefer Sutherland also appears, essentially as “The Man”, the obligatory white government guy behind the conspiracy -and it’s been a while since I’ve seen him have this kind fun, or show up at all, in a relatively profile movie.
The most fascinating thing though about the whole Blacksploitation homage, is how directly this style is in conversation with the movie’s themes. Whitewashing is the name of the game, which Taylor and Rettenmaier illustrate to an outlandish degree worthy of Boots Riley in the government entity’s real goal here -a mere exaggeration of general political and cultural attitudes towards race. The movie already takes its shots at representations of fried chicken restaurants and black churches, but it evolves in quite scathing ways towards the end as it becomes clear why this neighbourhood and these black people are being targeted. Of course, there are echoes of the Tuskegee Syphilis Study, in which hundreds of impoverished black men with syphilis were abused by the government health authority. It is melded here with psychologically ingrained notions of white supremacy, and there is an undercurrent of “civilizing” at play. And it’s why the distinct and loud aesthetic of this movie’s characters is so important. Whatever else can be said about it, Blacksploitation was a tool of Black Power, and of open defiance against the white mainstream. It was brash and abrasive, in contrast to a more upstanding, palatable image of blackness that the white public preferred. That is exactly what Fontaine, Yo Yo, and Slick Charles represent in the face of a concerted effort to sanitize them and their community. Taylor is wise enough to know the value and cultural function of this kind of brazen black imagery, and the statement it makes even today.
Though for as much as They Cloned Tyrone may adapt from the great black provocateur filmmakers -Riley and Peele, Robert Townsend, Melvin Van Peebles, and of course Spike Lee, Taylor’s directing rarely matches the spontaneity in his writing or tone. He’ll incorporate an occasional long-take, such as when Fontaine first arrives at Slick Charles’ motel room, but for the most part there isn’t any kind of flare to the filmmaking to match that of the aesthetic style. The colour grade is also often dim and flat, which reflects on some level the state of the environment they are in, but again clashes against the kind of extravagance emphasized by the plot and characters. It has a diminishing effect on the movie’s charm, and in moments makes the impressionist choices appear shallow -something that also isn’t helped by several gang and drug dealer characters around the main trio being characterized in a more conventional modern sense. Like if the lead of Super Fly was interacting with the cast of The Wire.
But the movie has substance enough to overcome this, a sharpness of conviction and dedication to at least a tone and delivery mode that makes its tributary connection. It’s all in all a good, weird little movie that probably chose its title just for the catchiness of it and likely won’t get the sequel it’s gutting for, but it executes a solid concept and compelling racial commentary well. And it speaks to a trend it would be nice to see catch on more in the current pop culture establishment.

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