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Speaking of “Smack My Bitch Up,” you have to wonder just what the Hughes brothers (Menace II Society) were hoping to accomplish with this well-made but distasteful documentary about contemporary booty-wranglers. Using their street cred to get a coast-to-coast procession of obviously successful (judging by all the 24k jewelry on display) pimps to tell their stories on camera, they illuminate a subculture that is undeniably interesting but that makes what has traditionally been one of the most detestable black male caricatures look awfully real and awfully bad.
Guys with monikers like Payroll, Charm, Fillmore Slim, Sir Captain, Bishop Don Magic Juan, Rosebudd and Gorgeous Dre cheerily admit having no aversion to slapping around any prostitute who gets too independence-minded. They unanimously claim to pocket not just a percentage, but all of the cash their stables earn, in exchange for supplying the accoutrements of a glittery lifestyle. And to pad the take they don’t discourage boosting the occasional wallet or car keys from a john, although they themselves, as one pimp says, “don’t steal nuthin’ but a bitch’s mind.” At the same time, only a few of the girls get a chance to speak for themselves (and the one sounding the happiest in fact works for Nevada’s legal Bunnyranch, which is run by a white guy who provides his hookers with benefits such as medical insurance and 401k), and although some older ex-pimps speak of their retirement to “straight” professions (blues singer, telemarketing manager, preacher, etc.), there are no ex-hookers in attendance. Don’t look for much candid insight to what drives these men into the life, besides easy money. B
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