'Hustle & Flow': Cheer for the underdog, even if he is a pimp

We all like to root for somebody trying to better himself against sizable odds. At least that is what the new urban fable Hustle & Flow is banking on, even if the main character is a lowdown pimp with dreams of hitting it big in the rap music world.

Paramount Classics 'Hustle & Flow' B+ The verdict: Gritty tale of a Memphis pimp's musical ambitions, rendered with authenticity by Howard. Director: Craig Brewer Starring: Terrence Howard, Anthony Anderson, Taryn Manning, Taraji P. Henson Run time: 114 minutes Release date: July 22, 2005 Rating: R for sex and drug content, pervasive language and some violence See showtimes On the web Official movie site View the trailer    Trailers require Quicktime Rate "Hustle & Flow"   Go see it   Make it a matinee   Wait to rent   Don't bother Voter Limit: Once per Hour View Poll Results

Even if that sketchy plot outline leaves you indifferent, the central performance by Terrence Dashon Howard (Crash) and the gritty, unblinking direction of relative newcomer Craig Brewer go a long way toward overcoming the inherent potential for cliche. Hustle & Flow does not cover any new territory, but the way it handles familiar cinematic terrain turns the movie into an effort worthy of attention.

We first meet Memphis-based DJay (Howard) working out of his beat-up Chevy, pimping the obedient, ambitious Nola (Taryn Manning, Cold Mountain) and dealing a little pot on the side. Nola is one of three hookers in DJay's stable, a lucrative enough business, if he did not sense it would lead him to an early grave as it did for his father.

Still, he sees no way out of his dead-end life until he obtains an old Casio keyboard and begins plunking out a tune to go with the street lyrics in his head. He inches closer to marketing the song and realizing his dream when he runs into a distant acquaintance named Key (Anthony Anderson), a sound engineer who helps him make a garage recording.

The more insurmountable obstacle, though, is getting the demo tape to someone with industry connections. In the film's most anguished sequence, DJay deludes himself into overstating his ties to rap star Skinny Black (Ludacris, another Crash veteran) and boldly pushes the tape to him when the hip-hop celebrity returns to his hometown. Although Hustle & Flow leaves DJay with a glimmer of ironic hope, the subplot involving Skinny Black leads to black-on-black violence reminiscent of the early plays of August Wilson.

Again, all of this might have seemed hackneyed without the authenticity of Howard's performance, delineating his character's dead-end desperation, trumped by his nothing-to-lose determination. Howard has been delivering reliable support in films for years and this could be his career breakthrough. Ludacris conveys heavy-lidded, drugged-out Skinny Black convincingly and Taraji P. Henderson stands out as DJay's pregnant girl, who beams with pride over her backup vocal track on his multi-track recording.

Ultimately, though, the triumph of Hustle & Flow belongs to writer-director Brewer, who does not try to prettify his film to make it more palatable. Yet with its grainy view of the world and a surprising directness, he seduces us into caring about and empathizing with DJay and his dream.