The 1987 film Street Smart arrives with a certain weight of expectation, especially when considered within the landscape of gritty urban thrillers of the era. It’s a movie that, like Falling Down from the early 90s, attempts to tap into the anxieties and tensions simmering beneath the surface of city life. While Falling Down used traffic jams and fast-food frustrations as catalysts for one man’s violent breakdown, Street Smart delves into the darker corners of journalism and the seductive, dangerous allure of the streets. However, as with Falling Down, and even the more visually stylish Fight Club, Street Smart treads a precarious line, particularly in its portrayal of race and crime, leading to a viewing experience that is as uncomfortable as it is gripping. This exploration of “Street Smart Movie” tropes reveals a film that is both a product of its time and, in some ways, unfortunately timeless in its problematic representations.
At its core, Street Smart presents the story of Jonathan Fisher (Christopher Reeve), a journalist desperate to save his career. In a bid to create a sensational story, he fabricates a piece about a pimp. In a plot twist that strains credibility, this fictional pimp bears striking similarities to a real and dangerous pimp named Fast Black (Morgan Freeman), who is currently facing murder charges. This coincidence throws Fisher into a dangerous game, caught between the pressures of the legal system and the menacing demands of Fast Black himself. The premise itself sets the stage for a tense thriller, but the film’s execution unfortunately stumbles into well-worn and troubling stereotypes, particularly in its depiction of race and criminality. The casting itself is a point of contention: a white, Harvard-educated reporter entangled with the criminal underworld embodied by black characters. While the film makes fleeting nods to the idea that Fisher is perpetuating harmful stereotypes by focusing on a black pimp, these moments are quickly overshadowed by scenes that reinforce those very stereotypes, such as a black character violently invading a white, affluent space.
Morgan Freeman’s performance as Fast Black is undeniably powerful, showcasing his early career intensity. However, the character itself is thinly written, oscillating wildly between charming and psychopathic with little nuance. Fast Black becomes less a complex human being and more a collection of dangerous tropes. His motivations and actions often feel dictated by the needs of a simplistic villain narrative rather than arising from a fully realized character. The film hints at a deeper exploration of Fast Black as a product of systemic issues and societal constraints, even acknowledging that his violent act was accidental. Yet, these potentially richer storylines are abandoned in favor of a more conventional thriller plot, ultimately reducing Fast Black to a caricature of a menacing, unpredictable “street” criminal. Even within the film, the script seems aware of this simplification, with Reeve’s character at one point commenting on the predictability of Fast Black’s villainous actions, highlighting the somewhat formulaic nature of the antagonist’s portrayal.
Christopher Reeve’s Jonathan Fisher presents another set of problems. The character is positioned as a journalist with questionable ethics, fabricating a story without hesitation and seemingly facing minimal professional repercussions within the film’s narrative. Furthermore, his personal choices, such as engaging in infidelity with one of Fast Black’s prostitutes, feel unmotivated and serve to further muddy the character’s already weak moral compass. Reeve, while a capable actor, appears miscast in this role. He lacks the necessary seedy undercurrent to convincingly portray a character capable of such ethical compromises and moral ambiguity. The role arguably needed an actor who could project a sense of hidden darkness beneath a veneer of respectability, a quality that Reeve, with his inherently noble screen presence, struggles to convey.
Despite these significant flaws in character development and problematic racial dynamics, Street Smart is not without its merits. Morgan Freeman’s compelling performance, even within the confines of a stereotypical role, is a major draw. Furthermore, director Jerry Schatzberg keeps the narrative moving at a brisk pace, ensuring that the film functions effectively as a thriller on a purely plot-driven level. In terms of narrative coherence, Street Smart stands notably above many of its Cannon Films contemporaries, which often prioritized sensationalism over narrative logic.
Ultimately, Street Smart remains a film that is difficult to wholeheartedly embrace. While it offers moments of tension and a noteworthy early performance from Morgan Freeman, it is ultimately hampered by its reliance on outdated and offensive stereotypes. Like Falling Down and Fight Club, it grapples with themes of male frustration and societal anxieties, but it does so without the necessary nuance or critical self-awareness. Revisiting this “street smart movie” in the present day reveals a film that, while watchable, serves as a stark reminder of the problematic representations that were once more readily accepted in mainstream cinema.
