Review: Top Five
Please note: This article is published as an archive copy from Philadelphia City Paper. My City Paper is not affiliated with Philadelphia City Paper. Philadelphia City Paper was an alternative weekly newspaper in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The last edition was published on October 8, 2015.
Top Five proves what's possible when Rock doesn't compromise.
City Paper grade: A-
Cruising along that refreshingly lawless stretch between satire and self-reflection with no intention of stopping for directions, Chris Rock’s latest makes more than one kind of statement. The product of a verified-elite comic with a verified-rocky writing/directing CV, Top Five proves what’s possible when Rock doesn’t compromise. But it’s also a high-octane showcase for one of his lesser-publicized roles, as a Sherpa/cheerleader for Hollywood’s best Black talent. It’s a hat he’s been wearing for years, and he’s finally showing it off on the street in the splashiest manner possible.
Though Rock’s never been shy about film-industry race relations, a topic he broadly dressed down in a sprawling essay for The Hollywood Reporter, much of Top Five is granular, starting at the bottom of a career and scrambling up to a tenuous summit. A popular standup and comedic actor who longs for artistic credibility, his Andre Allen is not exactly autobiographical, but he’s close enough for us to notice.
The star of a blockbuster action franchise that involves him voicing a gun-toting bear cop named Hammy, Allen stands at a crossroads. Poised to marry a flashy Bravo-lebrity (Gabrielle Union) and counting on a tone-deaf drama about the Haitian Revolution to move him into “serious” territory, he spends a breakneck, Woody-esque day canvassing New York City, shadowed by a skeptical Times reporter (Rosario Dawson) writing a piece on his self-prescribed evolution. With her invasive questions moving the storytelling back and forth along a fluid timeline, Dawson not only keeps pace with Rock, she often completely laps him, capitalizing on the wit, beauty and vulnerability so few roles allow her to show off.
While the multitude of bit parts and cameos will resonate the most with audiences, it’s the little details — particularly the running discussion of best all-time rappers, a la the title — that keep it familiar and three-dimensional. Rock doesn’t falter much, but he’s not flawless, particularly in his awkward treatment of homosexuality as a punchline that deserves the same laughs as an easy Tyler Perry dig.
