Sean Combs is right to assume he's a deeply fascinating individual, it's just not entirely for the reasons he had hoped for. Watching the new 50 Cent- produced Netflix documentary The Reckoning, detailing the various legal troubles he's encountered over the past couple of years- it focuses on a film crew following Combs around New York City as he deals with his incoming charges- I've been reflecting a bit on the concept of "separating the art from the artist".
Most of my feelings towards Diddy prior to his scandals breaking out were...just kinda there. Let's face it, there are reasons why Fitty, for all his faults, keeps insisting that Combs "is not an artist", as he's more of a "does it sound sexy?" type producer and stylist. Mark Curry, one of many former Diddy acquaintances interviewed, notes how bland and flat his actual rapping skills are, and how he had to coach Combs all night until his remaking of Led Zeppelin's "Kashmir" into Diddy and Jimmy Page's Godzilla '98 anthem "Come With Me" sounded halfway listenable. Not too far into episode one, those wind up being the least of the sins he's committed.
The four-episode documentary briefly notes his origins as the son of a hustling but unattentive late father and an abusive mother, his internship at Uptown Records (also later, the subsequent undercutting of his business associates to eventually found Bad Boy Records), and then the tragic crowd crush during a Diddy-sponsored party at a NYC community center, which resulted in the loss of nine lives. Holding close to his chest a constructed image of a charitable, culture-minded businessman, the infamy he gains from the publicity leads to him achieving music industry clout through his promotions of star acts like Jodeci, the Notorious B.I.G and Mary J Blige.
This all serves as a backdrop to accusations during his rise of sexual assault, violence and intimidating business rivals, his apparent involvement in the killing of a Suge Knight partner, shamelessly fueling the East coast vs. West coast tension to a dangerous point for profit's sake, and severely attacking a producer for not shelving his "Hate Me Now" video with Nas after rethinking his crucifixion visual. And no, that's not the only time in this doc that Combs attempts to martyr himself, or comes off as a twisted spoiled brat. All the footage from his MTV show Making The Band is so facepalm worthy- so demanding that your trainees go walk for miles in the frosty New York night to buy you a specific type of cheesecake, and then mocking their contributions to the group, is "setting the value for your people"?
.jpg)
Mr. Jackson's eternally burning hatred for Combs is evident in how candid the footage he pulls from the vault is. It's not just limited to graphic audio and visuals of the aftermath of Biggie Smalls's assassination- in fact, Fitty throws some partial blame towards Diddy's direction by the sheer arrogance of him daring to party on enemy rap turf in a rather Tekashi-ish fashion. He's even harsher in his and other people interviewed's direct accusations of ordering Tupac Shakur's death (including getaway driver Keefe-D, currently set to go on trial as of writing). Yes, he plays the 911 call there as well, so viewers be warned about some unsettling content in this doc. I won't spoil how Puffy handles Biggie's affairs after his passing, but let's just say it's no wonder he wasn't on Voletta Wallace's good side.
Though it's thankfully nowhere as graphic as the actual transcripts, the infamous drug and sex-fueled Diddy parties are mentioned, along with unsettling allegations of not-of-age attendees. Everything related to Kid Cudi, including things both referred to by the documentary and a couple of things that weren't, is straight out of a bad mobster movie, and the nasty recollections from members of Diddy's girl groups Danity Kane and Diddy-Dirty-Money are tough to sit through. In the mould of another 2000's hip hop icon, Curtis has been clearly rubbing his hands together like Birdman to add on any additional details to any salacious Puffy tale he can find.
For me, separating art from the sins of its creator depends, so long as one isn't trying to stan for people accused of terrible things just because one enjoys their work- I can admit to thinking "Moonlight" and "Sippin Tea In Yo Hood" are modern rap classics despite XXXTentacion's abusive history. I mention this because it's an understandable human reaction to have an increased gag reflex towards the creations of someone we know has done reprehensible deeds- for example, any curiosity one might have about the work of the band Lostprophets is forever tainted by the horrifying crimes Ian Watkins committed
If one wants to still enjoy his stuff, I'm not going to stop you- but there's a song by Blood Orange that I otherwise love called "Hope", which has (an unfortunate) Diddy verse toward the breakdown where he ponders what it'll take for him to be loved "the way he wants" and pouts about not being able to handle it. To which I go back to an old saying, you have to put out love in order to receive it, pal. Not just simply changing your stage name (for the millionth time) to "Love", I mean actually treating other people with respect.
The Reckoning, spiteful as it is on 50 Cent's part (who is no saint himself), is clear evidence that Diddy hasn't figured out this lesson yet, and is deservedly paying the price for it. Despite the grim subject matter, I can still recommend it just based on how psychologically fascinating it is, as a strong lesson on how one can lose their humanity in the pursuit of dream-chasing.
No comments:
Post a Comment