Pimps & Hell

Czeching out the Hughes brothers

Here's a cool trivia question: has an African-American filmmaker ever made a feature outside the borders of the United States? I'd venture a guess that Allen and Albert Hughes (Menace II Society, Dead Presidents), co-directing fraternal twin brothers from Detroit, are the first. They're currently deep in production for From Hell, a Jack the Ripper saga that stars Johnny Depp and Heather Graham and is being shot in London and Prague.

"In America, if you're black, they think for you to make a movie you have to have lived the life," says Allen Hughes at a press conference held during the Czech Republic's Karlovy Vary Film Festival, where their current film, American Pimp, has gotten its Central European premiere. "You're not supposed to make something you don't know. But aren't you?"

"They never question Spielberg," pipes in Albert. "Nobody asks, did you spend time in space to make E.T.? But if you saw our script for From Hell, you'd see it's consistent with our other stories, about the underclass, street life."

Albert is the cinematographer; Allen directs the actors. Yes, they finish each other's thoughts.

"We plan to stay together," says Albert. "Every day, there's a fight, but we don't harp on it."

"I disagree completely with what he just said," says Allen. "He's a dick!"

A journalist asked whether they're afraid of working with big movie stars.

"Not if you give them a lot of cocaine," jokes Allen.

"On this one we got lucky," says Albert. "We haven't had the experience of temper tantrums and people running into their trailers."

"We talked about casting one of those guys just so we could get past it," says Allen. "We screwed up with Johnny Depp, who is the sweetest person on the planet and does none of that. He's coming tomorrow to Prague. I want to tongue-kiss Johnny Depp!"

And what about the volatile documentary American Pimp (which lasted just one week at the Kendall Square)? A local film critic asks, "How did you get the pimps to talk so comfortably into the camera? Here in the Czech Republic, you can't get criminals to speak for fear they'll get arrested."

"We grew up in hip-hop culture," Allen answers. "A lot of their lingo was similar. We bullshitted with them and the walls went down."

"They have an ego," says Albert. "They want to be popular, and we appealed to their vanity, that they'd be on the big screen. It was easier with the middle pimps, the $100,000-$300,000 guys. We had more trouble getting to those who made a million a year or more. They had a lot to lose."

"And it was easier with those who had quit and were leading a `normal' life," says Allen. "Some working pimps were all gung ho, ready to say it for the camera, but then when the film came close to release, they called and asked to be cut out. A lot of others called and said they should be included. In their hearts, they all thought they should be in the film. Each thinks he's the best pimp, so there's jealousy."

Did the pimps ever turn on the filmmakers?

"They were easy-going with us," says Allen. "We saw no violence, though certain pimps in certain ghettos had their goons come out and hit on us for liquor and money. They were the lower guys, the true street pimps. Con men."

Do the pimps have a good side?

"The number one thing they have to have is charm," says Allen. "They were charming and disarming. That was the good side -- they definitely have a bad side."

"They probably beat up their women," admits Albert, "but not before us."

"We did see a lot of things," says Allen, "but most of the drama was not for our cameras, the weird rituals with the women. Like when Cheetos or Fritos fell to the floor, the pimps would say, `Let the ho' clean it up.' "

American Pimp has been criticized because it doesn't show the way the pimps maltreat the prostitutes who work for them.

"Some people have said our film glamorizes the pimp lifestyle," says Allen, conceding that "it's hard to cover them and not to show then in all their glory."

Shouldn't their "glory" be undercut? Criticized?

"We decided not to have an agenda," Allen answers. "We would roll the film, let the pimps have their say. We let the characters, their lifestyles, dictate our instincts. Youths in America at least seem to appreciate that they have a chance to make up their own minds."

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RIP. In June, of lung cancer, Michaela Odone, 61, whose efforts to find a treatment for her son's degenerative brain disease, adrenoleukodystrophy, was chronicled in the gripping 1992 film Lorenzo's Oil. She was played gloriously in the movie, with her stubbornness and obsessiveness intact, by Susan Sarandon. Nick Nolte co-starred as her husband, Augusto Odone.

Augusto talked to the Hollywood Reporter about what precipitated Michaela's early death. "It was her sacrifice for Lorenzo. She was with him 16 hours a day, continuously. She did not go out. We did not entertain people. We did not travel. We did not take vacations. It wore her out."

As for Lorenzo, he is now 22 and "holding his own."

Gerald Peary can be reached at gpeary@world.std.com

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