Main cast: Eminem (Jimmy), Kim Basinger (Stephanie), Mekhi Phifer (Future), and Brittany Murphy (Alex)
Director: Curtis Hanson
First Steve Kloves sells his soul to Harry Potter, and now Curtis Hanson sells his to Eminem. Hollywood is truly the first level of Hell on earth.
Can Eminem act? Considering how he is essentially playing a white-washed version of his own self in this movie, that’s not much of a stretch to say he’s okay. Then again, one could argue that he is the best actor around for pulling off the crap he did in his music career. One may call him daring or a public nuisance, but 8 Mile is just another catalog of merchandise in his ever-tedious self-pity whine and moan agenda.
See, in this movie, poor Jimmy. Women treat him like crap, his momma doesn’t know whether to lust after him or to smack him up and down, and his new girl Alex is a junkie. Poor Jimmy. Jimmy can only find solace in his music and of course, in his homoerotic relationship with his black bro, Future. Jimmy defends downtrodden homosexuals and he respects women, y’all. In the end, everybody loves Jimmy. Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy! Give Eminem/Jimmy/Marshall Mathers/sell-out an Oscar!
I stare at the screen in horror. After the credits have rolled, I put on Eminem’s The Marshall Mathers LP on the player. Yup, this is the same guy who sings about killing his wife, raping lesbians, and hating his mother. This is also the same guy who duets with Elton John at the Grammy show (where he thoughtfully censors himself), whines that he is a misunderstood victim on The Eminem Show, and now portrays himself as some Rocky/Karate-Kid type of champion and defender of the underdogs. The only similarity of this “autobiographical” movie with the Eminem in the public is the rampant misogyny running through 8 Mile that parallels his music.
Looks like Eminem has just taken yet another 8 Mile to absolute commercial whoredom. I’ll see him at the MC Hammer tour bus, darling, and remember, Emmie, your momma loves you.