Tupac Shakur was an electrifying and magnetic celebrity with a personal story that was almost literary in its complexity Tupac characterology has always written itself, and in many cases probably a bit too easily. Throughout Biggie hagiography there’s always been a part of him that’s remained elusive and seemingly unknowable. It’s a baffling decision that also comes off as immensely dated, a dusty relic of the authenticity-mad 1990s, when there was a belief that audiences needed to know that rappers were actually living the lives they rapped about. I Got a Story to Tell is a documentary about a musician that spends much of its running time on a day job that its protagonist held before he became a full-time musician.
Drug dealing is interesting in Biggie’s music because Biggie was a genius, not because dealing drugs is inherently interesting. But like any great crime writer, Biggie’s interest in drug dealing wasn’t in the act itself but rather the metaphorical power it provided, a narrative terrain through which to explore power, greed, injustice, violence, sex, and pretty much everything else. To say this is a well-trod topic is an understatement: Biggie brought it up in nearly every song he ever recorded. Most puzzling is the bizarre amount of time that the film spends on Biggie’s relatively brief career as a drug dealer in Bed-Stuy. Voletta Wallace is a charming screen presence as always, and the film devotes extensive time to childhood summers spent in her native Jamaica and the impact the island had on the young Christopher’s musical development. Jazz saxophonist Donald Harrison, a neighbor of Biggie’s, recalls listening to bebop records with the young Chris Wallace, and suggests that his vocal style may have been influenced by drummers like Max Roach. For an uninitiated viewer who just wants to learn who Biggie was and what made him great, I Got a Story to Tell doesn’t offer all that much, with a few exceptions. I Got a Story to Tell features a lot of men-as is so often the case with these kinds of movies, it’s mostly men-emphatically asserting the supremacy of Biggie’s music without actually saying all that much about it. Tinsley leans heavily on existing documentaries, previously published interviews, and biographies, particularly Cheo Hodari Coker’s 2003 book “Unbelievable” and the 2005 memoir by Biggie’s mother, Voletta Wallace.A common pitfall of documentaries about incredibly famous people is that they take the substance of their subject’s significance for granted to paraphrase one of Biggie’s commandments, they’re high on their own supply. member Chico del Vec and popular Brooklyn DJ Mister Cee, who was among the first to support Biggie’s nascent rap career. “It Was All a Dream,” however, struggles to distinguish itself from earlier accounts - despite personal interviews with consequential figures from Biggie’s life, such as former Junior M.A.F.I.A. A young writer with extensive knowledge of sports and Black culture, Tinsley has established himself as a critical thinker on contemporary issues and a stalwart student of Black American history, one recognized for his original voice and sharp-edged evaluation. Tinsley, a senior reporter with ESPN’s The Undefeated online platform (recently rebranded as Andscape), has covered the intersection of music, sports and race for nearly a decade, applying a journalist’s reportage and analysis to a hip-hop head’s passion.