“He could hear the pain of the world itself,” Forest Whitaker says of jazz musician Charlie Parker. The same might be said of the actor reflecting on the role that won him the 1988 Best Actor Award at the Cannes Film Festival when he was only 26.
By turns gentle and reeling with intensity, Whitaker imbues his characters with a bare honesty that makes his performances almost too painful to watch.
As a good-natured country boy in “Platoon,” a clever hustler in “The Color of Money,” the self-destructive, soulful Parker in Clint Eastwood’s “Bird,” and a hostage bent on survival in “The Crying Game,” the actor brings us so close to the truth that it hurts.
The same urgent need to face reality square in the face marks Whitaker’s feature film directing debut on “Strapped,” airing at 7 p.m. Saturday at on HBO.
“Strapped” is street language for “armed with a gun.” In this poignant, gritty drama, the dictionary definitions of “suffering from scarcity” and “to bind and constrict” also apply.
“Strapped takes us deep into the world of East New York’s projects and explores the tragedy of kids with guns. Whitaker pulls no punches in the process.
It’s territory that’s all too familiar for the director. He grew up in Compton, Cal., a tough city in South Central L.A., site of the 1992 riots. His brother still lives there in the house where they grew up. Forest Whitaker managed to stay out of gangs and out of trouble, but he knows the life.
“There is nothing in the film that I haven’t seen,” Whitaker says in a manner that conveys a maturity and sensitivity far beyond his 32 years. “I personally know people who have killed with weapons, people who have been shot, friends of mine, relatives of mine.” The director drew on this personal experience for what is best described as a relentless quest for authenticity.
The script by former New York Times reporter Dena Kleiman tells the story of two doomed teenage lovers. Whitaker reworked the original teleplay to change the point of view from that of a police lieutenant to that of the couple. Diquan (Bokeem Woodbine) is a young man trying to do right by his pregnant girlfriend (Kia Joy Goodwin). When she is arrested for selling crack-a misguided attempt to insure a financial future for her child-he tries everything to get her out of jail.
“Everything” includes short-end-of-the-stick deals with the police and eventually giving in to the financial lure of gun-running. Throughout it all, Diquan abides by a strict code of honor: You don’t betray those you care about. Ironically, that code spells his demise. It has no place in the universe where he lives; it doesn’t mesh with the options he can choose.
Whitaker believes that in many respects, the protagonist represents a universally held concept of manhood.
“He really fits into a very classic idea of manhood. He’s a person who is very honorable. He says this woman is pregnant; I’m going to marry her. I want to take care of her and my child. He tries to do it in the proper way.”
The director leans forward to enforce his point. “When you first meet him, he’s working at a normal job. He’s trying to go forward. Finally, he has to take the only doors that are open to him. He makes choices that some may say are wrong. I don’t necessarily see them as wrong myself. I’m really just trying to tell the story of the options the life, the pain, honest as I could. Then you can judge for yourself whether Diquan is a bad person or not.”
Whitaker’s unsparing pursuit of realism has the jarring effect of an unexpected cry in the dark. This is due in no small part to the explosive, heartfelt performances of his actors.
Raw emotion colors the screen in every frame. There are times when the viewer feels so close to the private moments of the character’s life that it is embarrassing to watch.
Almost 90 percent of the performers had never acted before. Veteran Michael Biehn (“The Abyss,” “The Terminator”) as public housing cop Matt McRae is the only well-known actor on the list of credits.
Whitaker hired casting director Jaki Brown Karman to comb the country for new faces. Karman (“Boyz N the Hood,” “The Jacksons”) made her reputation putting real people and complete unknowns in films-often minority kids straight out of the ghetto. She remembered Woodbine-an extra from her casting experience on “Juice”-and asked him to audition for the part of Diquan.
Woodbine makes his acting debut in the leading role. For the part of Bamboo, Diquan’s best friend, they picked Fredro a.k.a. Fred Scruggs, a rap artist from Queens.
The newcomers found a dedicated mentor in Whitaker, who had coached actors when he directed stage plays and videos. “He’s very giving,” says Woodbine. “It was my first time out, and I was apprehensive about being on film. He had an attitude that made it easy for me to display parts of myself in front of the camera that I wouldn’t naturally display.”
“Directing lets you use all of yourself to make something come alive,” the director muses. That includes his considerable knowledge of music. Whitaker attended USC on a music scholarship and studied to be an opera singer. He abandoned the singing career for acting, but music still dwells deep in his bones.
“When I first met with the producer, I gave him a tape of a song that my brother wrote that I thought should be in the film. I brought in a jazz musician to write songs, two balladeers, rap artists. All the musical accents are different, from the Gothic urban vibe of the grocery store scene to the striving beat that pounds inside Diquan.”
For his acting assignments, Whitaker goes into seclusion to prepare and often maintains his distance during shooting. “It’s out of necessity to do the part properly. That was one of the question marks for me when I went into directing. I wasn’t used to having to deal with everybody and listen. It’s a different kind of journey; it’s changed me a lot.”
“When I was an actor in school, I would do scenes, and they’d say `That’s great. but it’s too painful to watch. In some part of your mind, you have to enjoy the fact that you’re doing it.’ I never have come to that point with acting, but I can with directing. I enjoy guiding Bokeem. I don’t indulge in the pain of his scenes. I feel it; it makes me sad; but I can step back and see the beauty of it.”
If there is beauty in “Strapped,” it is the beauty of a truth well told.
There are more than 67 million handguns in circulation in the United States. Hand gun homicides increased 43 percent from 1987 to 1991. Firearm homicide is the leading cause of death for black men ages 10 to 34. Every day 14 children age 19 and under are killed with guns. There are more than one million illegal guns in New York; half of them belong to children.
“Strapped is a warning shot that brings these haunting statistics home.
“I want the people who it is about to look at themselves and make their own choices,” Whitaker says, pacing his words with seriousness that defines his personality.
“It’s through awareness that people get understanding and start to change themselves. I hope it’s simply too strong to ignore.”
