NostalGeoff

In the years since she died, it seems like Latasha Harlins has been largely forgotten. When she is actually mentioned, in the media, the focus is on how she died. The documentary short, A Love Song for Latasha, chooses to look at her life as a whole and not just the horrible circumstances surrounding her death. 

Latasha was a young black girl growing up in South Central LA. Early on she faced hardship when her mother was murdered, but she kept going. She took care of her younger siblings and looked out for her friends. She was also a good student who dreamed of being a lawyer and a business owner. She wanted to give back to her community and help other children. But at 15 years old, she was murdered by a convenience store owner who wrongfully accused her of stealing and shot her. All for a $1.79 bottle of orange juice. 

The documentary tells us about Latasha through her loved ones. Her cousin and best friend talk about how special she was and speculate about who she could have grown up to become. We also hear Latasha’s own words in a heartfelt essay. Director Sophia Nahli Allison intertwines this with beautiful images of black girls. They all could have been Latasha. They’re shown as proud queens, the way they should be depicted in the media. Allison uses this imagery instead of showing the widespread video footage of Latasha’s murder. It makes the film much more impactful. She gives life and light to Latasha’s story, making sure that she will always be remembered. 

Soleil Moon Frye carried her video camera everywhere she went when she was a teenager in the 90s. From wild parties to mundane trips to the mall. Then she locked those videotapes away and never looked back. Twenty-something years later, she has opened her vault of recorded memories and made the documentary kid90. 

Frye rose to fame as a child on the 80s sitcom Punky Brewster. Everyone loved the character and the precocious little girl who played her. When the show ended, she continued to work in the business while having a semi-normal teen life. By this time, she had befriended other young actors like Brian Austin Green, Stephen Dorff, and Mark-Paul Gosselaar. They grew up together in LA and she was there to film it all.

In kid90, Frye looks back at this footage and checks in with her younger self. She questions whether or not what she remembers happening actually occurred. She finds that she did have a pretty happy childhood. Her family was loving and caring. Plus, she had a supportive group of friends. There were dark times though. Frye’s breasts developed very early, leading to unwanted attention and harassment from older men. In the documentary, we see her going in for breast reduction surgery. She also had to contend with sexual assault. These events shaped her physically and emotionally.

The film also gets into life as a child star. Frye’s post-Punky career didn’t take off in the way she would have hoped, but she accepted this and moved past it. Unfortunately, many of her friends weren’t able to survive similar challenges. Actor Jonathan Brandis, who also became famous at a young age, is featured in the film. He seems happy and Frye only has fond memories of him. This is where perceptions of the past can differ from what was actually going on. Frye wasn’t seeing the whole picture. After his career failed, Brandis killed himself. Frye wonders how she could have missed the pain her friend was going through. Not everything showed up on camera it seems.

In the 90s, social media didn’t exist and people weren’t self-documenting like they do today. Frye was ahead of the curve. She knew she had a story to share someday. Also, without the threat of having their personal business put online, she was able to capture her friends unguarded. As a fellow 90s kid, it’s interesting to see these actors that I followed in a more private real setting. Frye does a great job of assembling it all and taking the audience down a fun and sometimes complex nostalgia trip.

The US government’s persecution of prominent members of the black community has been a recurring theme this Oscar season. MLK/FBI details the harassment and surveillance of Martin Luther King Jr. Judas and the Black Messiah follows an informant who infiltrates the Black Panthers in order to take down Fred Hampton. And now, The United States vs. Billie Holiday focuses on the FBI’s attacks on the legendary singer. They targeted Holiday (Andra Day) because of her song “Strange Fruit”, which tells the story of the lynching of Black men and women in the South. The FBI claimed the song would incite riots. They were actually worried about it inspiring a burgeoning civil rights movement and threatening their way of life. White life. 

US vs. Billie Holiday covers her story from the 1940s to the 1950s. By this time she is an established star touring the country. She also has a huge drug problem that threatens to derail her career. Jimmy Fletcher (Trevante Rhodes) comes onto the scene at this time. He’s claims to be a journalist, but is actually a Federal narcotics agent. The head of the division, Harry Anslinger (Garrett Hedlund), knows about Holiday’s drug issues. If he can take her down with that she won’t be able to perform “Strange Fruit”. Thanks to Fletcher’s betrayal, Holiday is sent to prison. Oddly enough, when she gets out, she accepts him back into her life and they begin a relationship. But he’s still being used by Anslinger to get to her, a role that Fletcher begins to rebel against. 

Director Lee Daniels has a lot to juggle with this film. It’s part biopic, romance, and historical drama. As a result Holiday’s story often feels disjointed, like Daniels is jumping around from moment to moment in an attempt to capture everything. Also, the sudden tonal and visual shifts are distracting. It’s a very interesting piece, but it could have been more cohesive. Day, on the other hand, often exceeds the movie she’s in. She truly embodies Holiday from the start, going beyond a simple imitation. Plus, her performances in the musical numbers are captivating. It’s an incredible debut that is deserving of the Oscar talk.