Would that marching band had been regarded as half as cool when I was tromping around my high school football field with a clarinet and a pirate’s hat. Fortunately, this dramedy about frosh drumline aspirants at Atlanta A&T is more enlightened in its appreciation (as was the whooping audience at Tuesday night’s sneak preview, which took “crowd participation” to an exhilarating new high). Hotshot NYC drummer Devon (Cannon) arrives at A&T’s band boot camp with a full scholarship and a mean swagger. No one can deny that Devon is the best of the best, least of all Devon, who has, to put it gently, issues with authority. He immediately butts heads with section leader-cum-drill sergeant Sean (Roberts), who can’t seem to drum into Devon’s head A&T’s motto — “one band, one sound” (as opposed to Devon’s preferred “one band, one long, kick-ass snare solo”). Devon and Sean’s fierce tug of war — as well as band director Dr. Lee’s (Jones) struggle between musicianship and showmanship (the former means dignity, the latter, audience favor) — stand as A&T’s primary obstacles to winning the BET Classic, the yearly marching band face-off that rival school Morris Brown has won five years running, mostly due to its crowd-pleasing renderings of Snoop Dogg and the like. (At one game, Morris Brown slings a hip-hop song like a challenge at A&T across the field; Dr. Lee orders his students to respond with “Flight of the Bumblebee” — technically, a wower, but not exactly something the crowd can shake its tail feather to.) Drumline’s “rookie overcomes adversity, makes good” trajectory is fairly routine (as my seatmate noted, “it’s like 8 Mile for band geeks!”), but there are so many winning elements here it seems rather churlish to hem and haw over formula (and if it ain’t broke … ). Every one of the principals could be singled out for his fine work, as well as a fistful of the supporting players (rapper GQ is especially endearing as a white boy drummer who affably puts up with the nickname “Affirmative Action”). One-time 7-Up ad-man Jones distinguishes himself in a largely dramatic role, but it’s Cannon who carries the picture, his high-voltage smile and impish antics tempering Devon’s often grating cocksuredness. The climactic BET Classic is a foregone conclusion, of course, but the path to competition is consistently intelligent, funny, and, above all, fun: Director Charles Stone III lenses the many performance sequences with style and skill, and it’s near impossible for your feet to resist the snare’s persistent rat-a-tat-tat. Good, clean fun, with none of the icky aftertaste so common to “family friendly” ware, Drumline proves irresistible in more ways than one.
This article appears in December 13 • 2002.
