Byron Hurt is a filmmaker/activist who focuses on black masculinity. I'd like to direct your attention to his film Hip Hop: Beyond Beats and Rhymes. Hurt examines depictions of masculinity in hip hop culture and it's affects on black men and women in America. It's a fine bit of film making and it asks lots of interesting questions through a mix of interviews with hip hop stars, academics, activists, and everyday folk on the street.

It's no secret that I have a longstanding interest in black culture in America and that I'm a big hip hop fan. I have the same conflicted feelings that Hurt has about the art form. I'm in awe of Biggy, but I mostly can't listen to this records anymore. Hurt takes these conflicting emotions and runs with them. He is fearless when it comes to challenging both supporters of hip hop and the artists themselves. The film has lots of great moments, but a standout is an interview with Jadakiss. Hurt asks why Jadikis is so violent in his songs. Jadakiss thinks about the question and then looks at Hurt asks, "Do you watch movies? What kind of movies do you watch?" These moments happen throughout the film. The intellectuals put things into a broad perspective, but the real insights come largely from folks like Jadakiss and the freestylers Hurt talks to on the street who demonstrate that they are just as adept at "conscious rap" as they are at "thug rap" but they know only the later sells.

What I found most striking was that the issue of homosexuality and homo eroticism is by far the most controversial subject in hip hop. Hurt addresses homosexuality head on with rappers, but doesn't get very far. At one point Busta Rhymes walks out of the room, not out of anger, but out of sheer discomfort and unwillingness to engage in the conversation. Homo eroticism occupies a smaller segment of the film and is only addressed by intellectuals.

I have only a few complaints about Hurt's film. Getting to causes bookend the film, with a look at the impact of white culture getting very little air time. I'm interested in examining the interaction between blacks and whites in the hip hop world (and Puerto Ricans, who are not the focus of the film but are clearly becoming an important part of contemporary hip hop). The few whites who do make appearances (with the exception of a white gender discrimination activist) are easy targets for claims of bigotry and naivette (while the portrait of black fans is much more nuanced). But that complaint is minor. Hurt doesn't make any claims about white fans, he mostly ignores them. That's not the film he wanted to make.

The film only scratches the surface when it comes to discussing masculinity as an American problem as opposed to an African American problem. The film is more focused as a result, but it begs the question as to whether hip hop is a cause or a symptom. I fear that many people who watch the film will come away thinking only about hip hop/black masculinity rather than masculinity in general, and I wonder if that doesn't hurt more than it helps. It's easy to look at the problem blame it on hip hop or black culture, when the scariest part is that its roots run much deeper.

Check out the film if you're at all interested in hip hop. If you're not interested in hip hop, check it out anyway. The questions it raises are deep and uncomfortable and revealing.

You can watch the whole thing on the Internet: