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Complex sums it up perfectly can't wait for y'all to see this
Tribeca: That Time Nas and Robert De Niro Celebrated "Illmatic" Together | Complex
The film is great. It's is a pure crowd-pleaser, especially when said crowd quickly proves that they're all about that "hip-hop shyt" DJ Premier spazzed about. What could have easily been an extended Behind the Music episode is a passionate, thorough, and wholly entertaining triumph for One9 and Erik Parker, the former an award-winning multimedia artist and the latter an O.G. in the hip-hop journalism game.
It's an 80-minute tribute to the young man Nas once was, the mature and grounded icon he's become, his beloved, formative Queensbridge stomping grounds, and an era in rap lore that feels Jurassic in comparison to today's glossier, more mainstream hip-hop climate. All of the album's supporting players are accounted for, each offering their own stories. Q-Tip discusses how Nas requested some of the Tribe Called Quest frontman's signature "mystic shyt" for the "One Love" beat; MC Serch, Illmatic's executive producer, breaks down the contextual significance of Nas' "waving automatic guns at nuns" line from Serch's posse cut "Back to the Grill"; Large Professor remembers how he helped Faith Newman, Illmatic's A&R, track down that young, unknown Queensbridge kid who tore apart Main Source's "Live at the BBQ" with talk of "snuffing Jesus" when he was 12.
While those moments should be catnip for rap heads, Time Is Ilmatic is even better when it's personal. The first 30-some-odd minutes focus on Nasir Jones' pre-music upbringing, his days growing up alongside brother Jabari "Jungle" Jones and under their cultured jazz musician father, Olu Dara, and hard-working mother, the late Ann Jones.
Dara, one of the film's most frequent talking heads, shares several intriguing anecdotes about his son's early years. The Dara/Jones household was loaded with books—as a youngster, Nas read everything from The Egyptian Book of the Dead to J.A. Rogers's From Superman to Man. When he was barely pre-school age, Nas loved playing the trumpet and would constantly do so outside their project building, so much so that Dara told him to stop and wait until he was at least 7 years old, when his lips were "mature"—when Nas turned seven and Dara suggested he take trumpeting lessons, Nas said, "No, dad, I got something else." The rap bug had him. Even franker, Dara, Nas, and Jungle all recall how pops convinced his sons to drop out of school when Nas was around 13, believing that their teachers didn't care enough about them and that they'd be better off putting all of their energies into their passions.
Time Is Illmatic's family-driven content provides most of its strongest moments. The biggest reaction from the Beacon Theater crowd last night came in response to a Jungle soundbite. Acknowledging that the outspoken and semi-famous Olu Dara has been hailed as the most influential presence in Nas' childhood, Jungle struggles with his words before giving Ann Jones, who passed away in 2002, her long-overdue public salute. "I wish she was still here," he says, "so she could get as much praise as my dad. Without her, we wouldn't be here."
The livelier, filters-off complement to Nas's more reserved personality, Jungle nearly steals Time Is Illmatic from his brother and the film's numerous guest pundits. He's the film's spark plug, always candid and often funny. At times, though, his recklessness uncomfortably off-sets moments of deep sadness. Recounting the time when he, Nas, and Nas's best friend Will "Ill Will" Graham saw Alien 3 high off weed before a street-corner confrontation led to Will's tragic murder, Jungle caps the story off by saying he told Nas, "Don't tell mommy!" when his brother found him outside their building with a bullet-hole in his right leg. Most of the Beacon audience laughed hard at "Don't tell mommy!"; Nas, of course, doesn't find anything about that memory humorous. (Welcome back, earlier Beacon Theater awkwardness.)
The film's most profound scene, however, didn't elicit any wrongly placed laughter last night. Near Time Is Illmatic's end, Nas and Jungle agree on the importance of the day in early 1994 when a photographer came to Queensbridge to shoot the album's now-iconic cover artwork and its insert photos in the projects. "nikkas who'd wanted to kill each other came outside and it was all love," says Jungle. He then holds up a copy of the Illmatic image in which Nas and QB residents young and old crowd around a bench, the hood's tall buildings seen behind them. Jungle matter-of-factly points to every person not named Nasir Jones and provides updates on what they've been doing since 1994—they've all been in prison to varying lengths of time. One9 then cuts to Nas. He's seated in an unlit studio and staring to the side of the camera with a heartbreaking sadness in his eyes. "That's fukked up," he says. Then, he pauses. His thoughts collected, he adds, "If not for music, you might be telling a similar story about that kid in the picture," referring to himself.
For Nasir Jones, that realization is what DJ Premier's "hip-hop shyt" is all about, and that's what Time Is Illmatic captures so well. The album that music historians will continue writing about, DJs will endlessly revisit, and rookie MCs will try to emulate represents something deeper than artistic genius. As Nas puts it, he made the album to "let people know I was here." And as he walked out onto the Beacon stage to perform Illmatic front to back right after the documentary's screening finished, the whole room celebrated with him.
Somewhere off-stage, meanwhile, Robert De Niro and Jane Rosenthal were listening to Illmatic's "Memory Lane," visibly impressed. (OK, that definitely didn't happen, but wouldn't it have been perfect?)
Written by Matt Barone (@MBarone)
For more of Complex Pop Culture's Tribeca coverage, click here.
RELATED: 10 Things You Didn't Know About Nas' Illmatic
RELATED: The Most Anticipated Movies at the 2014 Tribeca Film Festival
Tribeca: That Time Nas and Robert De Niro Celebrated "Illmatic" Together | Complex
The film is great. It's is a pure crowd-pleaser, especially when said crowd quickly proves that they're all about that "hip-hop shyt" DJ Premier spazzed about. What could have easily been an extended Behind the Music episode is a passionate, thorough, and wholly entertaining triumph for One9 and Erik Parker, the former an award-winning multimedia artist and the latter an O.G. in the hip-hop journalism game.
It's an 80-minute tribute to the young man Nas once was, the mature and grounded icon he's become, his beloved, formative Queensbridge stomping grounds, and an era in rap lore that feels Jurassic in comparison to today's glossier, more mainstream hip-hop climate. All of the album's supporting players are accounted for, each offering their own stories. Q-Tip discusses how Nas requested some of the Tribe Called Quest frontman's signature "mystic shyt" for the "One Love" beat; MC Serch, Illmatic's executive producer, breaks down the contextual significance of Nas' "waving automatic guns at nuns" line from Serch's posse cut "Back to the Grill"; Large Professor remembers how he helped Faith Newman, Illmatic's A&R, track down that young, unknown Queensbridge kid who tore apart Main Source's "Live at the BBQ" with talk of "snuffing Jesus" when he was 12.
While those moments should be catnip for rap heads, Time Is Ilmatic is even better when it's personal. The first 30-some-odd minutes focus on Nasir Jones' pre-music upbringing, his days growing up alongside brother Jabari "Jungle" Jones and under their cultured jazz musician father, Olu Dara, and hard-working mother, the late Ann Jones.
Time Is Illmatic's family-driven content provides most of its strongest moments. The biggest reaction from the Beacon Theater crowd last night came in response to a Jungle soundbite. Acknowledging that the outspoken and semi-famous Olu Dara has been hailed as the most influential presence in Nas' childhood, Jungle struggles with his words before giving Ann Jones, who passed away in 2002, her long-overdue public salute. "I wish she was still here," he says, "so she could get as much praise as my dad. Without her, we wouldn't be here."
The livelier, filters-off complement to Nas's more reserved personality, Jungle nearly steals Time Is Illmatic from his brother and the film's numerous guest pundits. He's the film's spark plug, always candid and often funny. At times, though, his recklessness uncomfortably off-sets moments of deep sadness. Recounting the time when he, Nas, and Nas's best friend Will "Ill Will" Graham saw Alien 3 high off weed before a street-corner confrontation led to Will's tragic murder, Jungle caps the story off by saying he told Nas, "Don't tell mommy!" when his brother found him outside their building with a bullet-hole in his right leg. Most of the Beacon audience laughed hard at "Don't tell mommy!"; Nas, of course, doesn't find anything about that memory humorous. (Welcome back, earlier Beacon Theater awkwardness.)
The film's most profound scene, however, didn't elicit any wrongly placed laughter last night. Near Time Is Illmatic's end, Nas and Jungle agree on the importance of the day in early 1994 when a photographer came to Queensbridge to shoot the album's now-iconic cover artwork and its insert photos in the projects. "nikkas who'd wanted to kill each other came outside and it was all love," says Jungle. He then holds up a copy of the Illmatic image in which Nas and QB residents young and old crowd around a bench, the hood's tall buildings seen behind them. Jungle matter-of-factly points to every person not named Nasir Jones and provides updates on what they've been doing since 1994—they've all been in prison to varying lengths of time. One9 then cuts to Nas. He's seated in an unlit studio and staring to the side of the camera with a heartbreaking sadness in his eyes. "That's fukked up," he says. Then, he pauses. His thoughts collected, he adds, "If not for music, you might be telling a similar story about that kid in the picture," referring to himself.
For Nasir Jones, that realization is what DJ Premier's "hip-hop shyt" is all about, and that's what Time Is Illmatic captures so well. The album that music historians will continue writing about, DJs will endlessly revisit, and rookie MCs will try to emulate represents something deeper than artistic genius. As Nas puts it, he made the album to "let people know I was here." And as he walked out onto the Beacon stage to perform Illmatic front to back right after the documentary's screening finished, the whole room celebrated with him.
Somewhere off-stage, meanwhile, Robert De Niro and Jane Rosenthal were listening to Illmatic's "Memory Lane," visibly impressed. (OK, that definitely didn't happen, but wouldn't it have been perfect?)
Written by Matt Barone (@MBarone)
For more of Complex Pop Culture's Tribeca coverage, click here.
RELATED: 10 Things You Didn't Know About Nas' Illmatic
RELATED: The Most Anticipated Movies at the 2014 Tribeca Film Festival
