Patti Cake$ movie review (2017) | Little White Lies

Pat­ti Cake$

30 Aug 2017 / Released: 01 Sep 2017

Young woman standing next to a red classic car, arms crossed, wearing a black and white top.
Young woman standing next to a red classic car, arms crossed, wearing a black and white top.
4

Anticipation.

Received standing ovations at Cannes and Sundance.

4

Enjoyment.

A beautiful story that plays out like a Bruce Springsteen song.

4

In Retrospect.

A rousing opera out on the turnpike.

Danielle Mac­don­ald announces her­self in storm­ing fash­ion in this spir­it­ed film about find­ing your voice.

Aus­tralian actor Danielle Mac­don­ald purs­es her lips like a super­star as the tit­u­lar Pat­ti, or Kil­la P” as she likes to be referred to in her rap songs. Patti’s best friend and fel­low rap­per Jheri (Sid­dharth Dhanan­jay) believes she is des­tined for great­ness, emphat­i­cal­ly announc­ing her entrance as she bowls in to the phar­ma­cy where he works.

Every­one who knows and loves Pat­ti pic­tures her this way, apart from her alco­holic moth­er Barb (Brid­get Everett) and those who decide not to take her seri­ous­ly because of her plus-size fig­ure. Her nick­name in the neigh­bour­hood is Dum­bo”, but Pat­ti rarely gives such insults a sec­ond thought, instead choos­ing to focus on her dream of becom­ing a world-famous rap­per and to work with her hero, music pro­duc­er O‑Z (Sahr Ngau­jah).

In his first fea­ture as a writer/​director, Gere­my Jasper has cre­at­ed a mem­o­rable out­sider char­ac­ter with this strong-willed 23-year-old pro­tag­o­nist. An impres­sive cen­tral per­for­mance from Mac­don­ald, who learnt how to rap and speak with a New Jer­sey accent for the role, marks her out as an excit­ing new talent.

Join­ing Pat­ti in her quest to the top is her chain-smok­ing, wheel­chair-user Nana (Cathy Mori­ar­ty), Jheri and anar­chist and hard­core musi­cian Antichrist (Mamoudou Athie), who we first meet at a local open mic night screech­ing out a song about the dan­gers of the pack men­tal­i­ty. Togeth­er they form an unlike­ly alliance and super­group called PBNJ (Mori­ar­ty hol­ler­ing out the let­ters in her husky tones is tru­ly magical).

Patti’s delight­ful fan­tasies posi­tion her walk­ing on air or enveloped in swathes of green light as she sits majes­ti­cal­ly on a throne. Allu­sions to The Wiz­ard of Oz are clear; it’s in the blue-col­lar New Jer­sey set­ting that these colour­ful images take on poignant new mean­ing. As Pat­ti pours out shots and shots of Jäger for Barb in the karaōke dive bar she works in, the green glass of the bot­tle hints at the real­i­ty of bro­ken dreams numbed by booze. Barb’s glo­ry days of hair­spray rock may be over but she keeps on singing with soul and deter­mi­na­tion as Everett con­vinc­ing­ly sells her heartache and despair with a daz­zling ren­di­tion of Lita Ford’s Kiss Me Deadly’.

This is a beau­ti­ful film about find­ing your peo­ple and your voice, one that moves along with a stir­ring, spir­it­ed ener­gy. Jasper cap­tures the romance and rest­less­ness of youth, where con­fi­dence and vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty clash, with great warmth, good humour and a per­cep­tive eye.

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