The ever vibrant Summertime is about giving voice, the voice of mostly young Los Angelenos, expressing themselves mostly through poetry. Stretching across LA from Venice Beach to Crenshaw, director Carlos López Estrada takes us to the neighborhoods that we often see and those we don’t; he introduces us to marginalized kids who share dreams and despair in one kinetic poetry slam.
I can’t remember hearing so much poetry in a movie. Some of the poetry is rapped. This really isn’t a musical, but there are a few songs and one very powerful dance, taking over the street outside a Jons for a female manifesto responding to toxic masculinity. And some warmly goofy, multi-generational dancing erupts in the kitchen of a Korean restaurant. We glimpse the visual arts, too, including a brief montage of LA murals.
Summertime is a series of loosely connected vignettes, some better than others, with different art forms, characters and neighborhoods. The most powerful is the poem Shallow, written and performed by Marquesha Babers; it’s about a young woman who finally confronts a cruel remark about her appearance that had emotionally devastated her.
Director Estrada (Blindspotting) and cinematographer John Schmidt clearly love Los Angeles – especially the everyday LA that most of us never see.
You could pair Summertime with In the Heights for an exuberant, youth- oriented double feature. Or you could match Summertime with I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking) in a festival of underrepresented LA.
Someone has to manage the fast food store, and someone has to drive the limo. Invisible in their own city, the characters in Summertime demand to be seen and heard. One uses a spray can of paint and another weaponizes Yelp. They all have something to say.
This is a good movie – and it’s sui generis. I missed Summertime at this year’s Cinequest, but you can stream it from Frameline through Sunday night, June 27.