Ho-Ho-Ho

Pimpin' ain't easy, but the Hughes Brothers don't make it look half bad.

Call it the second-oldest profession in the world. It's certainly one of the most quintessentially American: Few professions combine sex, capitalism, violence, and self-gratification in quite the way that pimping does. It's like perpetual adolescence, allowing those who practice the profession well to surround themselves with beautiful and willing ladies, rake in the tax-free cash, and behave in an impulsive and violent manner toward anyone who "disrespects" them, including said ladies, none of whom are generally strong enough to fight back. Small wonder that there are many who fantasize about being pimps, from Dolemite to Kid Rock to the WWF's Godfather. And yet the popular image of pimps is so outrageously over the top -- generally that of a high-pitched fast-talker with platform shoes, unfeasibly huge hat, garish clothes, and the world's most conspicuous automobile -- that it's easy to wonder if there is any reality whatsoever to the mental picture.

Albert and Allen Hughes wondered the same thing, and thus the creators of Menace II Society and Dead Presidents decided to kill two obsessions with one stone: Investigate the American pimp as he exists today and strip their filmmaking technique down to its barest essentials by documenting that quest. The result is American Pimp, a film that has been doing the festival circuit for about a year and has finally landed in theaters. As any documentary on a controversial subject will do, the film has generated its fair share of criticism, notably from those who feel it glorifies the pimping lifestyle, or at the very least doesn't sufficiently condemn it. Of course, the best documentaries generally try to hold back, to a point, and let the audience decide -- giving a controversial individual time to make his own case while providing opposing viewpoints that attempt, successfully or not, to shoot him full of holes (as in the excellent Mr. Death). The Hughes brothers provide plenty of the former but perhaps not enough of the latter, depending upon one's innate disposition toward hustlers who rent out women like commodities, address them solely as "bitch," and lay the smack down when they dare to second-guess a command decision. If you don't already have a problem with that, it's going to take more than this film to shake your beliefs.

One of only three or four "hos" to be interviewed on camera breaks down for us early on the three basic types of pimp. There's type one, the kind who'll get you hooked on drugs so you remain in a haze and depend upon him for guidance. Type two is a demanding, domineering personality who doesn't need to use drugs to enforce his will. And type three is simply defined as "the player," essentially the slick, comic-relief pimp we know and love or loathe, depending. The thing is, assuming that this film represents a typical sample of pimps in America, all of them appear to be type three. At least, that's what they want you to think. As the film goes on, it becomes clear that pimps, like religious cult leaders, are masterful when it comes to psychological persuasion, a skill many of them have devoted their entire lives to learning.

It seems as though the Hughes brothers may have fallen under the spell somewhat also; we see New York pimp R.P. threaten two of his women once, and we see numerous others talking about how they have to threaten to kill their women to keep them in line, but it's presented in such a fashion that it feels about as dangerous as Ralph Kramden's "To the moon!" It may be that the Hugheses simply weren't permitted to watch any acts of disciplining, but the portrayals still lack some balance. We do get to see lots of "average" people condemning pimps at the beginning of the film, but they all seem like such stuffed-shirt Caucasian doofuses that we're hardly supposed to take them seriously. They're probably just upset because, as one "player" puts it, pimping is "one business the white man can't control."

American Pimp clearly tries to contrast the fantasy image of a pimp with the reality, and intersperses numerous media clips to give us that image. Again, though, it would have been nice to actually hear from some of the stars who glamorize the pimp. Has Kid Rock, for instance, ever personally known any "hos"? The only guest celebrity to appear on camera is rapper Too $hort, pontificating like he knows firsthand, and maybe he does, but for those of us unfamiliar with his work, it's hard to judge his credentials.

As for the contrast between fantasy and reality, pimps like Bishop Don Magic Juan, who claims his name is internationally known, says of Jerry Springer et al., "They have to use that punk shit to make the pimpin' look raggedy." Fair enough, wouldn't be the first time. But other than the revelation that being a good pimp requires hard work, what we see doesn't contradict the image at all. The arrogance is there, the greed is there, and despite claims that "You can't be a ho if you're not intelligent," the profession is definitely misogynist. Listen to Ken Red, for instance, saying that "If a ho don't get no instruction, she be headin' for self-destruction," or C-Note's claim that "I don't steal nothin' but a bitch's mind." And none of them has any regrets -- even the ones who aren't pimps any more.

Where the film has its strongest hand is in the segment devoted to "legal pimps," which brings up not only a legal brothel called the Bunnyranch, but also Hugh Hefner and L.A. billboard maven J. J. the King of Beepers, as examples of "acceptable" methods of selling sex. Porno movies aren't really touched upon, but there is a close-to-the-bone comparison made between prostitution and the singles bar scene, in that at least a "ho" has something to show for it after a one-night stand. Not that any of these women ever get to keep any money for themselves.

Thankfully, the film doesn't press the issue of pimping as black empowerment any further than the pimps themselves try to. A brief history of pimping in America begins with the assertion that it started as a way to make money off former slave owners post-Emancipation, then conveniently ignores every other time period in history. But this is clearly presented as the viewpoint of a pimp, not the filmmakers themselves, who seem to have become more and more disillusioned as filming progressed. And ultimately, it's hard to make the claim that the film glamorizes pimps, at least not to the same extent as an Ice-T record might, but it doesn't present any significant nonpimp viewpoints, and therein lies the movie's primary weakness. Still, for a first documentary, American Pimp is competently made, with a good eye for imagery, smooth narrative flow, and many entertaining interviews, whatever one may think of the individuals personally.