Joe Stemme Again, the phrase 'Sundance Favorite' ends up being the kiss of death. It does have some heart and style, and Cathy Moriarity is a hoot, but, it ends up collapsing under the mountain of cliches. Every time the movie picks up a tad of momentum out comes another hackneyed trope in the wanna be musician screenwriting handbook. Danielle Macdonald shows a bit of charm as the title rapper, and the supporting cast has their moments, but, it's not enough to make Writer-Director Geremy Jasper's movie get over the hump. It's all well and good to show a struggling lower class person fight to get ahead, but, it cheapens the effect when that battle is under-cut at every turn by sappy feel-good moments.

caramia2002 I am stunned that the formulaic, cliche ridden, boring, over-the-hill $cientologist Tom Cruise movie, American Made, has a rating of 8.8 and this movie 6.6. I don't have much hope for American culture anymore. We love the crap that we are fed by the entertainment *industry*, and give those same people more power than they deserve. This isn't about whether you like rap or not (I don't listen to it); that's not the issue. It's not a musical. Danielle Macdonald (Patti Cake$) is easy to listen to and the rap lyrics are clever. Funny how those who tolerate outrageous lyrics in rock/metal are suddenly offended by rap lyrics. I remember being young and the cherry on top was that my parents were highly offended by the music I liked. Rap is protest music, shock music, music about joy and desperation. Taken in that vein, it adds to the film rather than takes away from it. This film is even more remarkable in that its budget was under $5mil. Again, proof that budget is no indicator of quality.This is one of the best movies I have seen in a long time. I found it on a streaming service tonight. This is not your usual rags to riches(?) music story. Stories have to have some bit of formula in them, and that has been true since before Shakespeare, but Patti Cake$ keeps the formula in check with some much needed freshness and originality. The first part is all about theme, as people on the margins rely on their dreams to get up in the morning. From Patti's mom singing Heart's version of the lovely song "These Dreams" (Bridget Everett handles her character's vocals superbly), and her failed rock career, to Patti's seemingly hopeless music dreams, the theme overrides the formula. Patti can't sing, so her dream has more hurdles than usual as she uses her poetry as a white rapper chick. An obese white rapper chick. She might as well have tried to become Rhianna, complete with the necessary physical changes.The originally but never cartoonish quirky cast of characters in Patti's orbit add to this movie's watch-ability as we watch her put together a rap group. The acting is more than top notch from all involved, but Australian actress Danielle Macdonald as the Jersey Girl, Patti Cake$, deserved an Oscar. The formula kicks in as Patti hits the wall of life's hurdles, which she compounds, as we all do to some extent. Patti has no true role models in life except for an uber famous rapper she idolizes and dreams of signing her. Her mom has hit the rails and only sees value in Patti by what money she can bring in. Her Nana is on her side, but is our family's love ever enough when we are young? No.This movie grabbed me in the emotions and didn't let me go, more than any movie I have seen in a long, long time. The great acting and characterizations, plus masterful directing and writing, pulled me deep into Patti's life, as I related to her music dreams. I wouldn't watch this while doing chores, etc. You won't get the full effect.There are many twists and turns, and an interesting ending, but I will leave them to you as I don't want to put spoilers. If you require most of the actors to be "hot", don't bother with this. If you like meat with your salad, and substance, you will. If you've ever started from less than zero with your dreams, you will.

pyrocitor 'Hairspray for rappers.' '(Size 1)8 Mile.'It'd be easy to write Patti Cake$ off from the onset as derivative and clichéd, but doing so would be the cinematic equivalent of kicking a mangy, adopted puppy who has yet to show you how damn good it is at doing tricks. Here, defying all odds, is an underdog tale of not judging a book by its cover turning into an uncanny exemplar of life imitating art, from the film's accolades as a crowd-pleasing Sundance darling, to the unexpectedly enjoyable and resonant final product. Cheerfully bubbling with gusto and sincerity, Patti Cake$, 2017's most unexpected pleasant surprise, is decided more fun and worthwhile than the sum of its parts, oft-trod as its parts may be. The plot, inevitably, is a harmlessly rote affair, complete with ragtag posse, debilitating family drama, and that oh-so-convenient battle of the bands for a record deal (do those even exist outside of the movies?) as the carrot dangled as Patti's potential escape from 'dirty Jersey.' Still, director Geremy Jasper attacks it all with such ferocious earnestness and urgency that it's easy to walk down Patti's path of desperation and redemption with minimal eye-rolling. The on-location shooting makes for a resonantly despondent setting, dredging up every last inch of grime, crime, and lack of opportunities, as Patti's poverty and paralysis ebb out from the cigarette butt-riddled concrete and her cheap, cracked sneakers. Similarly, Jasper carefully paces his film so Patti's breakout rap prowess isn't too saccharine and convenient, but plagued with genuine doubt and inertia, making the catharsis of each musical win all the more earned.Jasper is also carefully to neatly invert expectations to keep his film fresh amidst its framework. Right when Patti's Nana (an amusingly salty Cathy Moriarty) is on the cusp of empowering and balancing her granddaughter's perspective, she drops off with inglorious nonchalance, and 'Basterd' (hilariously opaque, scene-stealing Mamoudou Athie), Patti's industrial thrash metal collaborator, is a young, solemn African American man instead of the stereotypical basement-dwelling white nerd, who additionally turns out to be a) a privileged rich kid acting out, and b) a viable love interest. Still, appropriately, Patti Cake$ truly comes alive and is elevated by its killer soundtrack, chock-full of tenaciously energetic, ferociously catchy, and lyrically nimble rap tunes (anyone who can make a song about a sandwich acronym turn into so bombastic a throwdown beat is all right in my books). The film's finale, which neatly weaves all conflicting plot threads together into an emotionally supercharged duet between Patti and her mother, is as flooring and affecting as any major blockbuster emotional beat of the year. Newcomer Danielle Macdonald truly shines as Patti. Apart from her surprisingly fluid rapping, Macdonald delivers a performance so loudly belligerent you can too easily see her drifting into the same white trash anonymity as the rest of her family, but gleaming with so much mischievous playfulness and deepest emotional honest that you yearn for her to hit the heights of her rap dreams. Supporting her, Bridget Everett is exceptionally brash, abrasive, and achingly sympathetic as Patti's mother - a former hair metal singer turned into tragic, dissolute cautionary tale. Finally, Siddarth Dhananjay gives an exceptional breakout performance. Practically glowing with an unquenchable twinkling, bouncing jubilance, Dhananjay brings the film most of its biggest laughs and more poignant inspirational beats, proving himself a vibrant talent considerably worth keeping an eye on. So insistently big-hearted that it worms - or perhaps bludgeons -its way into the heart, Patti Cake$ is a perfect example of how to ride out cliché with disarming charm. Defying expectation, the film provides the year not only one of its most addictive soundtracks, but infectiously enjoyable crowd-pleasing interludes. It's silly, convenient, and doesn't reinvent the wheel, but Patti Cake$ is miles away from the message of its recurring hair metal screech - Tuff (to) Love. -7/10

thirtyfivestories Poetry seeps into the cracked pavement of New Jersey. Not in stanzas, but in bars. The poets do not recite their work, they spit it. Their lines are shanks with jagged edges. They draw blood through their opponent's insecurities. When a battle transpires, the participants sign on to gladiatorial bout that does not conclude until the loser lies motionless outside of a gas station.Patti does not write for these moments, but these moments will cement her social standing. Resorting to ugliness empowers her rhymes with putrid fury. Even the knock off drug dealers affirm her fire. She is an insecure tyrant wary of haters, and drunk for admires. Her emerald dreams place her on a throne of excess, yet she wakes in a nicotine flavored home. Her main man Jheri has the body shape of an anti-depressant. He has not abandoned his Indian roots, and pays homage to Bollywood exuberance in his verses. Paired with Patti, the duo slap out beats from her Chevy's hood, and belt out lamentations of Dirty Jersey life. Patti's mother has her head in toilets all over town. Her daughter is her designated bartender and hair-holder. Barb was a hair rocker of yesterday, but now her records play in the cluttered kitchen, accompanied by drug store wine. Once a leach of men, now a leach of her dwindling family. Patti has to stomach her mother proclaim the two of them as "sisters".Nana, Patti's grandmother, chain smokes her way to her deceased husband. Patti knows she loves limericks, so she composes a new one with each morning's brushstrokes. They are often lewd, but Nana is a sick old woman. Each bellowing laugh puts her soul closer lung failure, but they both know every bit helps."Superstar" is Patti's name in Nana's eyes. Her songs are crafted with supreme resentment. Her very existence is described as an accident, and her appearance is a giant piñata in a crowd of immature hoodlums. The chip on her shoulder is crater created by an asteroid the size of a scummy New England town. Barreling through these attacks, New York is only one break away.