Highest 2 Lowest

Director Spike Lee is known for having made his share of fine films (“Do the Right Thing” (1989), “Malcolm X” (1992), “She’s Gotta Have It” (1986), “BlacKkKlansman” (2018) and “Da 5 Bloods” (2020), among others), as well as his share of misfires (“Chi-Raq” (2015), “Red Hook Summer” (2012) and “Bamboozled” (2000), to name a few), but rarely do his pictures fall squarely in the largely indistinguishable middle. Such is the case, however, with the filmmaker’s latest outing, a reinterpretation of the 1963 Akira Kurosawa Japanese crime thriller, “High and Low” (“Tengoku to jigoku”), a remake admittedly being a somewhat unusual production choice for this storied auteur. This is by no means a bad offering, but it is a puzzling one that is largely difficult to categorize. “Highest 2 Lowest” follows the story of David King (Denzel Washington), a successful New York City music mogul said to have “the best ears in the business.” However. when on the brink of closing a deal to revive his sagging recording company, he’s suddenly distracted by the apparent kidnapping of his 17-year-old son, Trey (Aubrey Joseph), whose release carries a $17.5 million ransom demand, an amount essentially equal to what he would need to complete his pending business transaction. Matters become further complicated when David learns that the criminals have not kidnapped Trey but have instead erroneously nabbed the teenage son (Elijah Wright) of his longtime friend, Paul Christopher (Jeffrey Wright), an ex-con who works as his driver, associate and confidante. This leaves David with the question, should he pay the ransom for someone who isn’t his son? Will doing so prevent the deal from proceeding? And what kind of public fallout would he experience if he declines to do so? Such are the dilemmas he must address and the outcomes they could bring. However, while this story thread makes up the core of the film’s narrative, it’s not especially well executed in terms of writing, editing and the performances. With that said, though, the picture nevertheless succeeds brilliantly in other ways, most notably in terms of its articulate statement about the state of current support for the arts and culture in the African-American community, particularly when it comes to funding efforts that are genuinely deserving of financial backing versus those artistically underwhelming projects that are rewarded merely for their commercial viability. This is perhaps best reflected in a performance of the picture’s inspiring title song, a composition truly worthy of serious consideration for an Academy Award in the upcoming best original song competition (an Oscar category to which I usually devote little attention). What’s more, it’s commendable that Lee makes his point on this score without resorting to his often-used tactic of angrily screaming at the audience and browbeating viewers into submission, a most refreshingly welcome deviation to his usual style of filmmaking (a change that I hope he employs more frequently going forward). When all of these diverse attributes are considered collectively, however, it’s not entirely clear precisely what the filmmaker was going for in the first place, which is why it’s a release best relegated to the artistic middle ground of his filmography. Indeed, there are sincerely noteworthy elements in place here, but there are also others that could stand some work, a mixed outcome I typically don’t expect from this director. In that sense, then, it could be said that the picture has a most fitting title to describe its content, even though it’s a somewhat disappointing result from a filmmaker from whom I generally expect better.