4 Brothers English Movie
If you aren't a huge fan of John Singleton's groaning body of films describing hormonal deficiencies in the societal structure then I suggest you stay away from his latest work.
"4 Brothers" is like "Four Weddings & A Funeral" without the fun or the pathos of either congregation.
Neither wedding nor funeral, "4 Brothers" is like a tightly wound doll that never does what it's meant to. Joyless and singularly lacking in warmth this urban fable, apparently inspired by an old Western, trots down Detroit's dangerous alleys in search of an adoptive family's mother's killers.
The pursuit is neither deep not probing. More thunderous than throbbing, more parodic than pulsating, this is just a mindless superficially sleek romp into the valley of mayhem, done in that lean-mean way that constantly defines the cinema of the African-American breakaway group of filmmakers.
The four brothers are suitably cross-cultured. There are two Caucasians and two African Americans. Their jokey brotherhood seems as tentative as the motives underlining this project.
No sweat!
If Singleton wanted to do a bloodied revenge saga he could've spared us the crimson details and the endless orgies of bloodshed which add a tasteless colour and flavour to the straightforward tale of vendetta.
The brothers, united in grief and anger, hardly seem capable of conjuring camaraderie. It's not the actors' fault. It's the director's treatment. Memories of mother are done in a mocking maudlin tone. Scenes of brotherhood are scattered in a show of sinewy machismo. And the ambience is smothered in smoke and bile. You come out of it choking and spluttering.
I can't think of one good reason why any film lover would want to sit through the rough stuff masquerading as gritty cinema in this film unless you happen to be a sucker for old-fashioned tales of vendetta with bullets flying so fast and furiously, you want to duck under your seat. Stay there.
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