OVERVIEW
Part absurd satire, part radical manifesto, part heist comedy, and part everything else Riley could fit in a two-hour runtime, I Love Boosters follows three women in the San Francisco Bay Area who run a small, efficient operation. They lift designer clothes from the boutiques of Metro Designers, the fashion empire built by celebrity creator Christie Smith (Demi Moore), then resell the pieces at a discount to people in their neighborhood who could never pay retail. A modern-day Robin Hood, if you will, because of course the population needs fancy clothes as much as it needs money and food. They call themselves the Velvet Gang. The most ambitious of the three, Corvette (Keke Palmer), who dreams of becoming a designer herself, has a chance encounter with Christie’s real operation and, after seeing one of her own designs copied, decides to take the hustle to another level.
BACKGROUND
Eight years separate this from Sorry to Bother You, the 2018 debut that turned Boots Riley from an Oakland rapper into one of American cinema’s loudest anti-capitalist voices. His sophomore feature comes with a larger cast and a far more ambitious scope, at a cost of over twenty million dollars (well above the three million of his debut feature). Yet despite the presence of A-listers such as Keke Palmer, Demi Moore, and Will Poulter, on top of a very active campaign by the director himself on his personal X account, where he tweeted directly at fans, the film was still a large theatrical bomb for Neon, in a month that saw some of the biggest box-office surprises in recent years with the back-to-back success of Obsession and Backrooms.
THE REVIEW
If both of those unexpected successes saw their YouTube directors make the most of their small budgets while keeping the core simple and straightforward, I Love Boosters goes in the opposite direction in every single way, delivering a mish-mash that makes Everything Everywhere All at Once seem to move at the pace of a Turkish arthouse film.
In other words, this movie is a lot. If Riley’s previous film started grounded before going nuts by its third act, here it takes about five minutes for his maximalist tendencies to take over. Huge saturated colors everywhere, expressionist production design, Looney Tunes-like slapstick, and an extensive collection of characters, subplots, and themes Riley wants to cram in. No one can accuse Riley of playing it safe; at the same time, this is Throw It at the Wall and See What Sticks: The Movie.
The film has enough ideas to fill several movies. How a brand name can matter more than actual talent. Western exploitation of Asian workers. The self-contempt that allows workers to accept their own exploitation, kept in place by leaders who dress that exploitation up as opportunity, even through something as silly as a pyramid-scheme pep talk. How idolizing someone can prevent you from reaching what they achieved. That and about twelve more, all appearing at different moments, all tied under the slogan “capitalism bad”.
While it is rare to see a few of those points stated so raw in a studio film, it never feels like Riley is saying anything necessarily new, more a validation of opinions than a real challenge to the status quo. Those who share his politics will nod along at the blunt statements until their necks hurt. Those who hadn’t thought about it as much, who in a political film should be the core audience, will be challenged to keep up with its many ideas, some of which are extremely contradictory, always the case with these Robin Hood-like films, where we end up watching selfish people excuse their behavior because their targets are more privileged than they are. At the end of the day, they are still keeping and wearing the clothes themselves.
Narratively, the balance is even shakier. The subplots keep piling up until the film seems to restart every ten minutes. It becomes exhausting to keep track of it all, especially when the film starts relying on big conveniences to move forward, like the machine that undoes sickness or the reveal of what would cure LaKeith Stanfield’s character. What was the point of his ‘condition,’ by the way, or even the feud between Corvette and Sade? Meanwhile, the villains are so poorly explored that it is impossible to be engaged in the climactic chase sequence, despite the novelty of the miniatures.
It is frustrating because, below all that, there is plenty to like about it here. Keke Palmer, as always, is an endearing protagonist who makes you instantly side with her despite how questionable her choices are. Her comic timing, as well as Poulter’s and Stanfield’s, remains as sharp as ever. Supporting Palmer, Naomi Ackie, Taylour Paige, Poppy Liu, and Eiza González create a compelling group, one that makes you wish the film was a far simpler heist film that just coasted on their chemistry. Finally, it is also good to see that Demi Moore is continuing her Moorenessance, even post-Oscar nomination.
The craft is often fantastic. The tilted building, the extravagant costumes, the stylized sets, the stop-motion, and the miniature work in the third act all give the film a handmade personality that is easy to admire. But I am not sure the style is as distinctive as some of the praise suggests. There have been comparisons to Wes Anderson and the Daniels, but for me, the clearest reference point is Tim Burton, with character design lifted straight from Mars Attacks!, sets that recall Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and a zany, very Danny Elfman-like score from Tune-Yards. Since Burton himself has not put out a good movie in a while, I am not against seeing someone else play in that psychedelic, gross, heightened space, with something to say as well. I just wish Riley had let it breathe instead of throwing it all out at once.
FINAL THOUGHTS
In trying to fit as many themes and stories as humanly possible into two hours, Boots Riley sabotages the individual merits of his own film. Fewer ideas would have given his characters space to develop, made his story points feel earned, and given him room to explore his arguments rather than just state a dozen of them. He said he wanted the film to feel like an amusement park. More like an extravagant, unending carnival ride. Hopefully, he takes a page from Curry Barker and Kane Parsons for his next one, realizing that sometimes, to tell more, you have to say (way) less.