COMPLETE FILMOGRAPHY --- Feature Films: “The Carter” (2009) 80 Minutes Documentary (Director, Cinematographer) Sundance Film Festival (January 2009) Private screening at Quincy Jones’ home, Bel Air, Los Angeles (Nov 8, 2009) Cinefamily, Los Angeles (Nov 10-11, 2009) Landmark Sunshine, New York City (Nov 12, 2009) Stockholm Film Festival, Sweden (Nov 2009) Oslo Film Festival, Norway (Nov 2009) Rutgers University, Camden NJ (Jan 2010) Maysles Cinema, New York, NY (Aug 2010) “The Upsetter: The Life and Music of Lee Scratch Perry” (2008) 90 Minutes, Documentary (co-director / producer/ cinematographer / editor with Ethan Higbee) SXSW, Austin, TX (March 2008) Natfilm Festival, Copenhagen, Denmark (March 2008) Maryland Film Festival, Baltimore (May 2008) Edinburgh Film Festival, Edinburgh Scotland (June 2008) BAM Afro Punk Film Festival, Brooklyn (July 2008) Roskilde Festival, Denmark (July 2008) Harbourfront Centre Summer Festival, Toronto, Canada (July 2008) Karlovy Vary Int’l Film Festival, Prague, Czech Republic (July 2008) Melbourne Int’l Film Festival, Melbourne, Australia (July 2008) Athens International Film Festival, Athens, Greece (Sep 2008) Stranger than Fiction Festival, Dublin, Ireland (Nov 2008) IFF Film Festival, Bratislava, Slovakia (Nov 2008) Mar Del Plata Film Festival, Argentina (Nov 2008) Rockumentti Fest, Joensuu, Finland (Nov 2008) Scion Independent Film Series - Boston, Atlanta, Austin, Chicago, Los Angeles, Seattle (Nov 2008) Portland Art Museum, Oregon (Jan 2009) Rich Mix Cinema, London, England (Feb 2009) Bermuda International Film Festival (March 2009) Kumu Documentaal Estonia (March 2009) Yerba Buena Arts Center, San Francisco (April 2009) Australian Center for the Moving Image, Melbourne Australia (Jan 2010) Portland Art Museum, Oregon (Jan 2010) Trinidad & Tobago Film Festival (Sep 2010) “WEAPONS” (2006) 85 Minutes Narrative Feature Film (writer/director) Sundance Film Festival - US Dramatic Competition, Utah (January 2007) Distributed by Lions Gate Films to DVD “Bomb the System” (2003) 93 minutes Narrative Feature Film (writer/director) Tribeca Film Festival, New York City (May 2003) Los Angeles Film Festival, Los Angeles (June 2003) Cairo International Film Festival, Egypt (August 2003) Athens International Film Festival, Greece (September 2003) Tall Grass Film Festival, Wichita, Kansas (September 2003) Leeds Film Festival, Leeds, UK (September 2003) Cinema Paradiso Film Festival, Hawaii (September 2003) HBO Urbanworld Film Festival, New York City (September 2003) Milan International Film Festival, Italy (October 2003) Stockholm International Film Festival, Sweden (November 2003) Oslo International Film Festival, Norway (November 2003) Anchorage International Film Festival, Alaska (December 2003) Bermuda International Film Festival, Bermuda (January 2004) San Francisco Independent Film Festival, California (February 2004) Florida Film Festival, Florida (March 2004) Nat Film Festival, Copenhagen, Denmark (April 2004) Reel World Film Festival, Toronto, Canada (April 2004) Coachella Music and Film Festival, California (May 2004) Atlanta Film Festival, Georgia (June 2004) Iceland International Film Festival, Reykjavik, Iceland (May 2005) Scion Route ’05 Independent Film Series, New York City, Minneapolis, Los Angeles, Seattle, Austin, Miami (July – Sep 05) Goldeneye Film Festival, Jamaica (December 2005) Blacksoil International Hip Hop Film Festival, Amsterdam (December 2005) Rhythm of the Line Hip Hop Film Festival, Berlin (April 2006) North American rights sold to Palm Pictures and distributed in theaters in New York City and Los Angeles, May 05 and nationwide to DVD in October 05 Japan rights sold to Nowonmedia, Japan and distributed in theaters nationwide September 05 and to DVD in March 06 Australian rights sold to Madman and distributed in theaters February 06 and to DVD in June 06 Independent theatrical release in Berlin, Germany, Eiszeit Kino – April 2006 (2 weeks) --- Awards / Nominations: Nominee Grand Jury Prize, Dramatic Competition, Sundance Film Festival (for WEAPONS) Audience Award Best Picture, Athens International Film Festival, Greece (for Bomb the System) Audience Award Best Picture, Cinema Paradiso Film Festival, Hawaii (for Bomb the System) Best Director, HBO Urbanworld Film Festival, New York City (for Bomb the System) Best Music and Editing, Milan International Film Festival, Italy (for Bomb the System) Best Picture, Anchorage International Film Festival, Alaska (for Bomb the System) Best Picture, San Francisco Independent Film Festival (for Bomb the System) Best First Feature Nomination, 2004 IFP Independent Spirit Awards, Los Angeles, CA (for Bomb the System) 2009 Hammer to Nail Award - (WEAPONS on the 13-best-of-the-year list, hammertonail.com) Other: Ranked #6 on Filmmaker Magazine’s Top 25 Independent Filmmakers of 2003 Accepted into the 2005 Sundance Institute Screenwriter’s Lab --- Short/Experimental/Music Video Exhibition (some of these can be found on YouTube and Vimeo) Michael Jackson 6666 (2006-2010) Multi-channel Video Installation “Respect My Mind” - Lil B (Nov 2009) - Music Video “Im God” - Lil B (Nov 2009) - Music Video “Rawest Rapper Alive” - Lil B (Nov 2009) - Music Video “99 Consecutive Pull ups” (April 2009) – Experimental “312 Consecutive Bare Knuckle Pushups” (July, 2008) – Experimental “Foily Foibles” - Ariel Pink (2008) Music Video “Burgundy (Screwed & Chopped)” - International Friends (2008) Music Video “Don Deal” - DJ Screw (2008) Music Video “Superstars of Basketball” (June 2007) Video Installation Collaboration with Ethan Higbee / Sebastian Demian “Konrad Project” (2007) Documentary Short Collaboration with sculptor Michael Konrad, detailing the creation of his public art installation Dead End. Konradprojects.net “Program” (2007) Video Installation Limited Edition DVD series of video loops given out at the 2007 Sundance Film Festival “Mother and Child” (2007) Video Installation Unfinished Video Installation commissioned by Mangusta Films, produced and filmed in late 2006 “Farmhouse” (2005) Experimental / Documentary Short Commissioned by Jim Jarmusch for the DVD release of “Broken Flowers.” Silent Super 8mm film shot on the set with an interview from Jarmusch and song by Mulatu Astatke. “Truck Job” (2005) Experimental / Documentary Short An abstract documentation of the graffiti advertising campaign for the theatrical release of “Bomb the System” included on North American DVD version. “640 Piano Loop” - International Friends (2005) Experimental / Music Video “Tabletops” (2004) Experimental Film / Music Video An experimental music video for “Midnight Jam” by Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros, commissioned by Jim Jarmusch for the DVD release of his feature “Coffee & Cigarettes.” “Lenoloops” (2004) Experimental Video Selected as part of the New Screen Broadcasting’s public art initiative, broadcast on PBS in Florida throughout 2004. “Blow it Away” - Screaming Soul Hill (2003) Music Video A music video for Japanese rock band Screaming Soul Hill, filmed in Death Valley, commissioned by Pony Canyon Records. MTV Japan, Japan (June 2003) “The Vanguard” - CESL (2002) Music Vide “The Waiting Period” - Supastition aka Kam Moye (2001) Music Video “The Rescue” - CESL (2000) Music Video “Dead Bent/? (MF DOOM Collaboration)” (2000) Music Video Screened publicly at NYU First Run Film Festival, New York City (May 2002) “JES ONE” (2000) Short Film Thesis project for NYU Undergraduate Film Production degree. NYU First Run Film Festival, New York City (May 2001) HBO Urbanworld Film Festival, New York City (June 2001) “The Vitamin C Theory” (1998) Short Film / Music Video Music Video for Dr. Octagon’s “Blue Flowers (Automator Remix) Screened Publicly at NYU Sight & Sound Showcase Fall ’99, New York City (September 1999) Selected Reviews: THE CARTER “Far and away the crowning jewel of the Midnight section, albeit the most out of place one, was Adam Bhala Lough’s “The Carter,” a documentary portrait of prolific rap artist Lil’ Wayne. Favoring more an experiential tone than an informational one, Lough transcends even the most accomplished cinema verite documentaries to put you right inside the mind of his subject, an eccentric codeine and marijuana addict who has completely given his life over to making and promoting his music 24/7. (Wayne even admits in one poignant interview that he’s too busy making music to have sex.) Because of this, the film runs with a relentlessly repetitious pattern, one that rings of the vigorous construction of greatly crafted filmmaking. Yet, it still manages to deliver on a purely entertaining level as Lough treats us to hilarious interview footage, never before released daily freestyles (Wayne records two songs a day, every day of the year, and never writes down a single lyric) and backgrounds on the most important people in his life, including his daughter Reginae, who Lough brilliant uses as the symbol of naive innocence in the film, the only person who is willing to directly address Wayne as a strong presence and persona as she coyly smiles and admits to the camera that the best gift he’s ever given her is “him being there.” Much like Margaret Brown’s “The Order of Myths” was to Sundance 2008, “The Carter” is the most experimental, most ambitious and most rewarding documentary screening in Park City this year, making it not only the strongest of the midnight section, but also the best film in Sundance 2009.” Indiewire.com - Michael Lerman 1/23/09 “Lil' Wayne would probably sneer at the comparison, but "The Carter" -- Adam Bhala Lough's intimate, warts-and-all profile of recording artist Dwayne "Lil' Wayne" Carter -- is the "Don't Look Back" of rap. Like D.A. Pennebaker's long-ago Bob Dylan doc, it's spontaneous, unblinking, and ennobles its subject despite himself. Exposure will likely be via music-oriented cable and Online, but Lough's film -- and its moody, idiosyncratic subject -- are revelatory and kinetic. Traveling the music world in a perpetual bubble of bodyguards, publicists and the effects of pot and cough syrup, the 26-year-old "greatest rapper alive" is seen in contentious interviews, onstage performances, and with his ever-present "black bag" of recording equipment, which allows him to constantly lay down the stream-of-consciousness lyrics that will be honed into the hits that have made Wayne one of rap's biggest stars. Lil' Wayne comes off as sort of an impossible personality, but Bhala's snapshot is a kick. “Variety -John Anderson 1/21/09 “I'm tired, so I'm not gonna spend too much time on the movies I wasn't into... but i was into THE CARTER this film reminds me of Bunuel's LAND WITHOUT BREAD- the film seems like a rock (rap) doc. people get loaded and see an artist behind the scenes. Big whoop...right? and that's what I was thinking half way through the movie...i looked at Katie and said, "this is trash" then the film turned. It turns against the audience that would normally pay to see it after getting high, turns against fans of Little Wayne and turns into a wonderful doc. As equally subversive as Bunuel's "doc" The Carter goes from simple glamour of a rap star that makes prolific amounts of music (at least 2 tracks a day) to a look into a man hiding from himself and his fame in drug use and making music. Wayne is an unhappy man addicted to "Syrup" which is a combination made up chiefly of promethazine and codeine and is the same shit that killed Pimp C of UGK. So the film becomes about addiction, but not overtly- i honestly don’t think the audience really grasped it. The film is set against the backdrop of Wayne's last album going Platinum in a week- which means that this crazy drug addict (whom I really enjoy watching- he's fucking great) is INSANELY popular with all of America's youth. The film has a wonderfully edited scene of concert footage that was built to scare the shit out of white america. Bravo, Adam Bhala Lough- that dip shit crowd at Eccles may have tried to give you flak at the Q&A, but you've made a music doc that can stand up against any that I have seen. This is subversive doc filmmaking that may get a pan from rap fans and even from critics- but fuck that. this is the best film I've seen at Sundance so far. The director did snap back at a few dickhead questions, which was sweet.” -Alex Orr 1/20/09 “On the recommendation of my Popless readers, I picked up Li’l Wayne’s Tha Carter III at the end of the year, and while I could hear what’s appealing about it—Wayne’s slurred rap-singing, his spontaneous melodies, his sense of humor and pathos—the record as a whole felt really sloppy to me, as though any set of rhymes from any given song could be transferred to another with no significant loss of meaning or flow. After seeing The Carter—a rambling, fact-light, immersive documentary about several months in Wayne’s life—I feel like I understand where a record like Tha Carter III comes from a little better, and even though I’m not any bigger a fan of the music, I am a fan of this movie. Beyond some rough biographical details and statistics, Lough doesn’t make any effort to tell the story of Li’l Wayne’s life, or to explain his success. Instead we’re embedded with the rapper as he rolls from studio to studio, concert to concert, interview to interview, and sizzurp cup to sizzurp cup. Basically, this dude lives his life in a creative whirlwind, never looking back and never writing anything down. It’s all one long, hazy, top-of-the-dome, life-is-music-is-life experience. And I found it intoxicating for as long as it lasted, even though The Carter could’ve been 20 minutes longer or 20 minutes shorter and it wouldn’t really have been much different. Grade: B+” Noel Murray, Onion AV Club 1/20/09 “Another one of my most anticipated films of the festival, Adam Bhala Lough delivers with this glimpse into the weed-clouded, syrup-glazed mind of Lil’ Wayne, who confirms his standing as one of modern music’s truest geniuses. Bhala Lough’s style is a perfect fit for Lil’ Wayne, who we get to see behind closed doors, recording-recording-recording (he says he records two new songs every day), getting interviewed, and performing to screaming fans all over the world. In some of those interviews, the The Carter has a Don’t Look Back feel (note to interviewers: don’t get too analytical about Wayne’s process or you’re out the door). My favorite moment might be when Wayne pantomimes without actually lip-synching–he’s too busy smoking weed–to a track that is blasting out of a stereo. Bhala Lough superimposes the track’s lyrics over the image, and the stream-of-consciousness lyrical flow confirms Wayne’s mad genius. I can’t wait to see this movie again.” Michael Tully, Hammer to Nail, 1/19/09 "The Carter" doesn't try to argue that Lil Wayne, born Dwayne Michael Carter, Jr., is, as he himself has claimed, the "best rapper alive." "Best" and "alive" aren't always long-lasting qualities in the world of hip-hop anyway. Instead of making the case for Wayne the artist, Adam Bhala Lough's documentary focuses on capturing the incredibly, frighteningly of-the-moment ocean of celebrity through which he wades, a diminutive 25-year-old from New Orleans with a multi-platinum album and, for now, all the talent and swagger in the world, as well as one of its more distinctive drug habits. "The Carter" follows Lil Wayne unblinkingly on tour, as he bounces from Amsterdam to Atlanta and back again, apparently unmoored and eternally on the road, recording in hotel rooms and buses with the equipment that's always with him, high all the time on weed, on codeine cough syrup cut with soda. That's why Wayne's manager and friend refuses to ride of the bus with him -- he can't stand to see Wayne as groggily fucked-up as he occasionally gets during the film. But Wayne's not the careening most-likely-to-become-the-next-music-biz-casualty he could be. For one, it's the music he really cares most about, recording like a man possessed, over a thousand songs, he estimates, telling a reporter he doesn't have time for sex, just music and money -- and if you don't quite take him at his word, you do take his point. And for another, Wayne's knows that half of the people gawking at him would gawk the same way at his tattooed, codeine-soaked corpse. "The Carter"'s biggest hat-tip to DA Pennebaker's "Dont Look Back" is its love of footage of Wayne sparring with interviewers at every stop on the road, sullen in some, playing up the persona in others and tossing the guy who would musicologically force "Tha Carter III" into some New Orleans tradition out on his ass with no further explanation. They tend to sound ghoulish, the journalists -- circling his outlandish lifestyle, asking about the "famous syrup," about whether he's thought about how he's going to die, asking about the time he accidentally shot himself -- and Wayne's aware that his fame can be commodified without him being around to benefit from it. He doesn't write his lyrics down, he says, because he doesn't want the papers auctioned off a la Kurt Cobain. And whether or not you think that he'll retain that type of fame in ten or 15 years -- I'm pretty ambivalent, myself -- Wayne's certainly enjoying what he has now, never better exemplified than in the stunner of an opening shot of him preening in the spotlight, eyes upraised, or in the moments when he turns to the camera and doesn't-quite-lip-sync along to his own tracks, his life as close to a music video as you can get. As fast as adoring fans can turn into devouring crowds, or worse, indifferent masses, it looks pretty good to be Lil Wayne right then. Alison Willmore, IFC.com 01/26/2009 “Hipsters, thugs, and assorted hangers on all crammed into L.A.’s Silent Movie Theater last night for a private screening of The Carter, the Lil’ Wayne documentary that’s had the Internet goin’ nuts for months – first because Wayne yanked his support from it, and next because there’s a dope trailer floating around that suggests the movie might, in fact, be amazing. Well, for once, trailers don’t lie – The Carter is a masterpiece, an incredibly vivid and detailed look into the life and process of a great artist. At the beginning of the film, a title card apologizes for the fact that the filmmakers were never able to sit down and have a formal interview with Weezy, and that he withdrew his support from the film. Well, they shouldn’t have bothered. Number one, they have enough footage of other people interviewing Lil’ Wayne, not to mention in-depth Q&As with everyone from Birdman to Wayne’s best friend to Wayne’s adorable twelve-year-old daughter (who busts a startling good freestyle). Secondly, and more importantly, the fimmakers had an all-access pass to Weezy’s life for six months, shooting as a fly on the wall in all manner of intimate situations. You see Wayne dump a wad of money the size of a cement block into his suitcase. You see Wayne in concert. You see Wayne’s birthplace, Hollygrove, in New Orleans. You see Wayne on drugs, pounding sizzurp and smoking copious weed. There’s tons of comedy, intentional and otherwise (mostly intentional), and Wayne drops incredible science throughout; the best is one interview where he lists everything he’ll legalize, from prostitution to “putting cocaine back in Coke.” But the cinéma verité approach serves us best by showing the audience Wayne’s non-stop work ethic and endless creativity. In the hotel room, on the tour bus, wherever he lays his hat, Wayne is recording, pushing himself to new creative heights. You see him lay down his part for T.I.’s all-star posse jam “Swagga Like Us,” along with countless verses that may never even see the light of day – and they are all masterpieces: the guy simply sweats art. And a subtle, in-depth look into Wayne’s addictions – contrasting his public persona with how he addresses them in his songs – proves one of the most affecting sequences in the film. Best of all is when Weezy busts an impromptu speech to the camera in the midst of recording a song that could’ve come straight from Brian Eno: “All knowledge comes from repetition,” he states, and he’s right – certainly, as his work ethic makes clear, it’s at the core of his fame. Yet while he repeats his process over and over again – play live show, record, go to hotel, record, get on bus, record, repeat as necessary – everything that comes out of his mouth seems jarringly new. That’s what’s most awe-inspiring about this film’s depiction – despite everything that could hold Wayne back, from addiction to hangers on to the challenges of his environment, at this point, he seems incapable of making anything wack. Why Wayne opposed the release of this film is unclear from its contents. Yes, it is shockingly intimate – anyone would be startled to see their life captured in such unflinching detail. But at the same time, The Carter paints its subject as a highly sympathetic figure: he’s self-destructive, yes, a possible Kurt Cobain of hip-hop, as he’s very aware – but that’s just one facet of an artist who could be on the level of a Jimi Hendrix or Miles Davis in his chosen genre. In a truly gut-wrenching scene, Wayne refuses to acknowledge his own mortality: you become convinced that, through his sheer determination, he might even be able to beat death the way his late, great peers Tupac and Biggie did not. More than anything, Wayne here is all-consumingly charismatic. Title cards flash onscreen to place us geographically, moving the action from Amsterdam to Atlanta to New York and L.A., but they prove largely superfluous. As the footage demonstrates, wherever he is, it’s clear that it’s Wayne’s world above all else: his everyday truly consists of his microphone and his mind, no matter what city he’s in (although it’s helpfully pointed out that Amsterdam is special “because weed is legal there, and Wayne likes weed.”). Immersing oneself intimately in his universe as The Carter does shows truly what separates a superstar like Lil’ Wayne from the rest of us. As he says himself midway through the film, “You have to be it, and thank God I am.” Matt Diehl, kspace.tv, 11/11/2009 “It only took six fading words in the opening title sequence of The Carter. That one reason gained my interest in this documentary concerning one of rap music’s most uncanny performers.  ”…he has since withdrawn his support.”  The caption had everyone in the audience shooting each other quizzical looks.  Lil’ Wayne had seen the film.  He loved it. Why, then, did his camp contact director Adam Lough and producer QD3 days before its Sundance premier and enjoined them to yank the movie, a project that began with Wayne’s blessing?  This question remains unanswered, even for Lough and QD3, but it was a bizarre omen for one of the most intriguing films I’ve seen all year. Let’s be real.  When I first heard about Lil Wayne’s doc I laughed.  Not because I didn’t respect him–like his music or not–the man is undeniably gifted and indisputably hardworking.  And I do like his music.  I laughed because after all the “best rapper alive” talk, the beef with Jay, and the “get money, f*ck b*tches” interviews–it seemed the next logical thing for the artist to promote his own brand.  But that’s another factor that sets The Carter apart: he didn’t actually make it.  When it came down to it, Wayne wasn’t involved in the film’s creative process at all.  Someone else came to him with the idea and all he did was give them unprecedented access to his personal space for nearly eight months. There are so many things that make The Carter one of the most unusual and simultaneously fascinating subjects I’ve come across in awhile.  He doesn’t drink.  He didn’t do cocaine or heroin because he felt their impact was too strong and inhibited his creative process.  ”I don’t have sex [right now]” he told an interviewer, “It’s just music, music, music, money.  I don’t have time.”  In fact, you never once see him with a girl in the film.  According to Lough, he spent the majority of his time on the bus.  ”The bus,” Lough recounted, “was his sanctuary to hide from distractions, pressures, the cops.”  Many times on tour the venue would provide Wayne a suite but he would just stay on the bus, tirelessly recording throughout the night.  He is a workaholic, a perfectionist, a musician who travels with a black bag of portable recording gear so he can lay down track wherever, whenever. His friends complain about his strange dependence on “the purple drank,” cough syrup aka “sizzurp,” which he references freely in his rap but refuses to ever talk about in person.  These same friends speak volumes about their relationships and past with Wayne, but he never does, only ever discussing his career and work. Lil Wayne is truly his own walking movie–you couldn’t write the stuff–it was too raw.  Even the filming process was strange.  When Lough thought Wayne would surely ask him to stop filming, he didn’t.  Then at other times he would have them turn off the cameras for no apparent reason.  There were moments when it would be just the two of them, Lough filming as quietly as possible.  In those times, he said, he was overwhelmed with the sense that though Wayne was constantly surrounded by so many people there was a distinct loneliness about him you couldn’t explain.  The curse of an artist.  Wayne refused to ever sit down for a direct interview; any interviews included were Lough filming other people interviewing him.  It sounds eccentric but the result was a eerily honest picture of a man you thought you knew–but realize you know nothing about. Watch this movie.  If you have any interest in rap, music, or people–watch this movie.  You thought you liked him.  You thought you hated him.  You thought he killed hip hop.  You thought he rejuvenated the game.  You thought you knew Lil’ Wayne.  But you don’t. Lough crafts the film so seamlessly you barely think about how it was made, instead remaining completely transfixed on the subject.  I can’t quite explain The Carter.  It’s a movie without an agenda, the farthest thing from a VH1 doc you could imagine.  This isn’t a celebrity documentary.  It’s a piece of his life.  Don’t overlook this film.  He may not be the “voice of our generation” (I’m not quite sold on that yet,) but he very well might be one of its most compelling representatives. Much thanks to Adam Lough for taking the time to answer some questions after the screening and to the Cinefamily for the great LA premier. The Carter releases in theaters on Tuesday, November 17th.” Evil Monito Magazine, Nov 13, 2010 “Wow. After watching The Carter, the new all-access documentary on Lil’ Wayne, one might consider recommending it as the best doc about a hip hop icon ever. The problem with this superlative lies in its limitation. Similar to labeling Lil’ Wayne a rapper—even “the best rapper alive” as many profess—and leaving it at that, labeling this a great hip hop doc restricts it to the confines of a niche or genre coated in personal taste and stigmas. That is to say The Carter is foremost a fascinating portrait of a remarkable, modern artist and celebrity who has cooked most if not all bridges for comparison. In The Carter we experience the exact moment when Wayne calmly finds out, overseas and perma-high, that his latest album, Tha Carter III, has sold one million plus physical units in its first week. As his friend and manager, Cortez Bryant, tells the camera, Wayne now undisputedly ranks with the world’s top pop stars; and this doc ranks with the best of the year. It’s also highly difficult to cite precedent for a film so privy to a superstar’s love of, and possible dependency on, drugs. Clearly, the recent, This Is It, failed in this regard. Of course, it comes as no shock to anyone who follows current music that Lil’ Wayne hearts marijuana and cough syrup, but truly witnessing his relationship with drugs to the extent that one can feel the chemistry intertwine and inspire Wayne’s tireless, unorthodox creative process and fiery ethos def qualifies as one. (I say this as a writer who has actually interviewed him in person in a hotel room with a blunt on the table.) As the camera rolls, Wayne quickly deadens an interviewer’s comparison in terms of his current popularity to the Rolling Stones. He has business beef with them over a sample so they don’t exist. Funny. Nevertheless, I find Cocksucker Blues, the 1972 doc on the Rolling Stones, to be an apt cinematic comparison in terms of access to excess. Especially when comparing each doc’s’ stylistic preference of cinéma vérité for capturing a lavish lifestyle of touring, partying, and recording. More reason for comparison is that the release of Blues was infamously blocked by the Stones for decades. Lil’ Wayne has similarly attempted to block The Carter to no avail. Though President Obama positively references Lil’ Wayne in speeches, he currently faces a one-year jail sentence for a gun charge, and the film will only heighten that criminal rep. Minutes after the flick started—when I realized the sheer number of viewers who will watch this—I subconsciously began to rethink the meaning of “pop superstar” in regard to Weezy. I’ve been meaning to do this, but even following his interview on 60 Minutes, it required a harder push thanks to the manufactured, horrible-for-pop state of pop music. Not only is Lil’ Wayne an artist whose outlaw-sensibility has a global reach—as he proclaims here—this is a rapper who sees himself as the aughts’ amalgamation of Kurt Cobain and Russell Crowe’s true-life schizo in A Beautiful Mind; he is the only icon of gangster rap to share semblance with a voodoo child and poetically harbor a crush on Topanga from Boy Meets World. Directed by Adam Bhala Lough—he previously helmed the Lee Scratch Perry doc The Upsetter and the indie Weapons with Paul Dano—The Carter follows Lil’ Wayne on his travels in 2007 and 2008 bouncing around to Los Angeles, Amsterdam (for obvious reasons), various concerts and other locales, and on to Miami’s famous The Hit Factory to record. Produced by QD3, a company founded by Quincy Jones III, son of the American producer legend, by way of sheer immediacy, The Carter surpasses James Toback’s excellent doc on Mike Tyson (Tyson) from this year. And both of these subjects share countless parallels: both are black men who grew up in lower income neighborhoods (in New York/New Orleans); both were involved in crime at a young age (troubled beginnings later parlayed into racially propagated, commercial-savvy images); both showed tremendous promise and talent in their teens and won awards (Junior Olympics/Album Sales) to foreshadow massive success; both had priceless, father-like mentors (Cus D’Amato/Baby) and money-hungry showmen (Don King/again, Baby); both have unique tattoos on their faces meant to incite intrigue and fear and both possess formidable physiques. I’ll stop here, but there are certainly more profound connections. One big difference, though, is that Lil’ Wayne has an incredible business acumen and surrounds himself with a Ziploc-tight team of confidants. The doc does a nice job at penetrating this inner circle, but it wasn’t possible—and it’s likely impossible—to explore the deeper end as a documentarian or journalist. The Carter is illuminating because one senses that an artist with a lesser constitution would drop all cares for the outside world and forever hole up in hotels in a sizzurp-addled abyss. Wayne’s support system is there to handle and welcome all facets except the recital of drug-induced rhymes. And there are times here when Wayne’s behavior has an unlikeable psychotic edge, not to mention an involuntary twitch. Screened outside of time to someone who was completely unfamiliar, if Wayne collapsed on the floor and r.i.p.’d in this doc, it would seem an inevitable conclusion. When he’s shown sleeping, the footage feels taboo, but it’s also a relief. Like The Lost Boys, he does, in fact, sleep. A genuine Reaper-shadowed tension surrounds Wayne in the footage that differs from similar, albeit posthumously released, footage of Tupac or Biggie; Wayne is utterly consumed with the act and idea of racing down a yellow brick road of output. It’s impossible to tell if he’s ever entertained the notion of peaking before age 30. Right now, he’s 27, the infamous age attributed to rock’s mythologized 27 Club, but what is reassuring and yeah, awesome, is that Wayne clearly sees bigger and bigger things ahead. Unlike so many artists and celebrities, the loneliness that exists at the top fuels him, and this is perhaps a sign of greatness. He’s trailblazing on camera, and that’s partially what makes his life here reel out like impeccably scheduled chaos. We see Wayne experimenting on guitar (his rock album Rebirth is forthcoming) and on the drums, and singing the blues with a tortured croak. But rather than serve as a commercially-complicit gloss over, the camera views Wayne as an outsider and vice versa. This alien element is the key to the doc’s success. Constantly, the film shows him setting up a mic in hotels, studios, and on the bus and unleashing the characteristic unwritten lyrics that at their best dip into aesthetic similarities between the brain and space. At times, the camera often seems invisible like a two-way mirror. This is not artistic grandstanding. His wordplay is so spontaneous and eerily out-of-body in these scenes that it can feel as if he’s lifted up the Giant Curtain, stood behind it, and returned. Stop. Record some more. “Repetition is the father of learning,” he repeats in a haze, like a father sternly reprimanding all of the current children of rap outside his Young Money rap posse. Keep in mind, this is within minutes of Lil’ Wayne informing a Young Money kid about the first time he had (oral) sex, an initiation he refers to proudly as “rape” (which it was, legally). Wanye implies that if the kid aspires to be as great—and he won’t be—repeating his life is the only way to try. Wayne refuses to discuss his own death on camera, and says of the inquiry, “that’s stupid,” behind thousand dollar sunglasses and a million dollar grill. And yet the most jarring, intimate footage in the doc as it pertains to his uncertain future is of Wayne’s daughter, Reginea. Wayne had her at age 15 and she’s shown here, a charming and happy school girl. Interviewed in her bedroom—followed by an effective juxtaposition of Wayne on tour—she proceeds to kick a rhyme about her dad that is inventive and killer. Whatever the fuck goes on in Lil’ Wayne’s mind, bookended by racing matrices of football scores and dollar signs, nobody knows. Maybe she does? Let’s hope not (though the idea of a future duet with Frances Bean is enticing).” Hunter Stephenson, slashfilm.com, 11/21/2009 “Lil Wayne is a martian – you already knew that. But what you don’t know about Lil Wayne is enough to fill a hundred films, and The Carter, directed by Adam Bhala Lough and presented by QD3, provides a glimmer of that insight. With a run time of an hour and change, the film plays like an intimate chapter of his life during the time around the release of his hit album Tha Carter III, featuring candid behind the scenes footage of Weezy F. Baby doing press, recording on his tour bus, performing live and features interviews with his daughter and his manager Cortez Bryant, ushering the viewer into the frenzied, confounding world of the man behind the music. And what makes it wonderful is that it isn’t even close to sugar-coated: though Wayne chose not to participate in any sit-down interviews with the filmmakers, he allowed cameras to follow his every move, showing both the good (the passion and love of music) and the bad (the drug use and overall craziness) of Weezy’s life. While The Carter doesn’t lift the curtain on Lil Wayne, it does what all good documentaries should do: it lays the pieces out for the viewer to assemble his or her opinion, rather than dictating what it should be. While the film is a general overview of Weezy’s life around the time the album dropped, it isn’t so much a microscopic look into the life of Lil Wayne – it’s more of an exploration of the microcosm that Wayne has created over the past few years. Though you wouldn’t know it, he’s created an alternate reality where he reigns supreme, with his subjects (to put it nicely, “team”) clinging onto him yet wisely keeping their distance so he can focus on doing him (recording, smoking, sipping sizzurp). And based on the footage in the film, it doesn’t seem like Wayne particularly would want it any other way. Weezy only seems to be focused on himself, fully embracing hedonism through gratuitous drug use and an intense obsession with recording. He doesn’t even seem to enjoy hanging with his own daughter, who worships her daddy (clips of her being interviewed are scattered throughout the film) yet is only mentioned by Wayne when he’s asked about her during an interview (he compares the interviewer’s unending line of questions to how his daughter acts when she’s around him). Wayne might seem like this prolific dude that’s only intent on pleasing the fans, but it’s all about externalizing the internal, a task that’s as obsessive and egotistical for him as it is compulsive. But in spite of all the crazy, there’s true talent at the heart of Wayne’s world. In the film, the viewer can watch Weezy construct these songs in his mind and usher those thoughts into existence, but it’s the mystery of that mental process that draws you in. Because whether you’re aware of it or not, listening to a Lil Wayne song isn’t just about the final product. It’s about the intricate lyrics, the artistic method and, most of all, that strange place from inside his mind where all of these words assemble themselves. It’s that disconnect from reality that’s so enticing, and The Carter is one of the largest windows in existence into that strange, remarkable place. There are many moments throughout the film where we get to see this side of Wayne. One in particular that comes to mind is when Wayne finds out from his manager Cortez that he sold over a million copies of Tha Carter III in the first week. Cortez flips out over the numbers, and quickly runs over to Wayne’s tour bus to inform him of the good news. But his reaction isn’t what you’d expect: the first words out of Wayne’s mouth are “I was recording. I was recording. And the Mets fired Willie Randolph today.” After Cortez tries to get a rise out of Weezy, the only words referring to the feat are “Niggas go platinum every day. Eat you some soup.” Wayne’s disconnect from reality is drug-fueled much of the time (he’s rarely seen without a blunt or a Styrofoam cup in hand), but that’s the type of person that he is and that the world will never understand. It’s the precise reason that it doesn’t even seem to register when he’s told he’s accomplished something that no one does in the digital age. But even so, The Carter proves its worth by showing the moments that humanize the alien. At one point during the film, Wayne is sitting through an interview where he’s asked about whether or not there’s jazz in his poetry. Wayne becomes increasingly irate (by Wayne’s standards, at least), and the tension begins to mount. Out of nowhere, he puts an end to the interview without explanation. Sure, that’s a rock star move, but it’s when the interviewer gets up and Wayne’s left on his own that the picture becomes clearer. Wayne can swear up and down that he doesn’t need anyone or care about anyone else’s opinion, but when the interviewer gets up and leaves him sitting all by himself to plug away on his iPhone, it shows just how much he needs and feeds off of that attention. It’s that self-contradictory paradox – the need for attention and the push against it – that’s part of Wayne’s incomprehensible psyche. And that’s the beauty of The Carter: it doesn’t necessary try to get to the bottom of that mentality. Instead, it merely presents the facts as is and lets the viewer make their own informed opinions. That’s what makes the documentary such an excellent piece of cinema, through the art of showing instead of telling. The filmmaker’s restraint may or may not be intended (again, Wayne denied any interview requests with them and even went on to sue them after he wasn’t given final cut approval), but it makes for a much better final product, one that’s as strange and perplexing as it is captivating and compelling.” Showingout.com, 11/23/09 “It's almost impossible to translate Lil Wayne's lyrics into the written word. With nearly every syllable on every one of his nearly 1000 songs of this past decade, Weezy is surly and snarly, croaking and crawling, urgent and erstwhile. But there are no accent marks for "Someone should've warned you/R-E-L-A-X like fuckin' California/Or get cornered, or get tortured, or get slaughtered/In that order." The words out of Wayne's mouth somehow sound like an artist beyond his time, even if the words on a page are about as non-sensical as they come. In the thrillingly intimate documentary, The Carter (DVD in stores today), director Adam Bhala Lough however finds a way to make Lil Wayne's lyrics translate into actual words. By subtitling entire mixtape verses -- DJ drops sometimes included -- the New Orleans lyricist is put on a pedestal that was once reserved only for Bob Dylan and John Lennon. And why not? Lil Wayne was one of the three most important rappers of the '00s, a decade where hip-hop inherited and then maintained its place atop the music world. It's a lofty declaration, but the Quincy "QD3" Jones III-produced film has the artistic and integrity-filled chops to make the premise a compelling one. Whether Wayne's lyricism is spelled out over grainy black and white photographs from live performances or in a quiet hotel room like the video below, The Carter keeps the focus on the music and away from the scandals and constantly retold ... kind of. The "kind of" comes about because of the honest way in which Wayne's surreal-ly serious addictions -- drugs, recording and himself -- are shown in the film, and in turn will be the easiest to sensationalize. (No doubt, the very reason why Lil Wayne pulled his support from the project at the last minute.) Lough's camera is given an unparalleled pass into Wayne's guarded world, one that the many journalists shown interviewing him can only hope to glimpse in 15 minutes slots. But Lough, and certainly with the aid of DVD-Mixtape luminary QD3's co-sign, gets weeks with Wayne in at least a dozen locations. The camera gets a guided tour through backstage worlds, tour bus sleeping quarters, endless press junkets, and sleepy-eyed viewings of Sports Center. Even more impressive, is the tour through Wayne's omnipresent Louis Vuitton bag, whose contents include a six inch stack of cash, a container of liquid codeine cleverly camouflaged in a grape Vitamin Water bottle, and a coffee-table book praising the form of the naked female body. It's the most physical example of the trust Lil Wayne bestowed upon the process, but perhaps not the most telling. That example isn't even allowing his daughter to be interviewed -- and her rap about "stuntin like her daddy" may be one of the film's most precious moments -- but it's the access to the New Orleans rapper's recording process. While it's not discussed at any length in The Carter, it's hard not to think about Wayne's impending prison sentence when watching the film. The only time that Lil Wayne doesn't seem to be recording in his travel studio -- which literally goes everywhere he goes -- is when he's in a proper studio. He sets it up in hotel rooms and on the tour bus and puts in hours and hours every single night. It's what the man does. And while he has an affinity for the liquid codeine charmingly known as "syrup," it's easy to imagine that he'll be okay without it when he serves his time. And a little infliction of the real world might help tame his ghastly addiction to self...but this man is going to go insane without a studio. His passion for the process borders on a physical addiction and he says in the film that he has to record so often just to release the pressure in his head from all the rhymes building up throughout the day. While the quotables and memorable scenes in The Carter are endless -- from grouchily ending an interview after only 90 seconds to Cortez Bryant's tears recounting the story that got the embittered manager kicked off the tour bus -- it's Lil Wayne's commitment to his art that truly resonates. And that The Carter found a way to translate that beyond the headphones makes it one of the top-five greatest hip-hop documentaries of all-time.” Brandon Perkins, Huffington Post 11/17/2009 “When the opening credits of "The Carter," the documentary based on the life of Dwayne “Lil Wayne” Carter opens with the disclaimer that the megastar rapper didn’t give any personal interviews for the film. Furthermore, it states the rapper had since pulled his support from the project. One might assume that the resulting film includes a barrage of second hand, conspiracy theories surrounding the turbulent life of one of Hip-Hop’s most enigmatic personas. Nothing could be further from the truth. "The Carter" is a compelling and insightful look into the life of the Cash Money’s multi-million dollar man, and weaves a story that no orchestrated interview could possibly capture. Director Adam Bhala Lough and crew were the preverbal fly on the wall as they had an all access pass into the life of Lil Wayne for approximately 6 months before the release of his history making Carter 3 release and two months after. The film peers intimately inside Wayne's mind by capturing real moments that reveal pieces of the man who was once a mere child of Hollygrove, New Orleans. The voyeuristic peek shows Wayne unapologetically in his element recording, and performing all over the world. Highlights include a fierce focus on his grind, constantly recording on his bus, performing and interviews. "The Carter" also gives a firsthand look at Wayne's apparent insatiable thirst for syrup, which some fear is more abuse. Attached to the world through his music, the film examines the reality of Wayne's delicate balance of lyrical excellence and combating inner demons. The film makers also interview with those closest to Wayne including Baby, and his longtime friend/manager Cortez. In one scene, Cortez speaks - nearly to tears - as he talks about the public beef and ultimatum that almost ended their relationship. The film also includes interviews with journalists around the country that are quite hilarious. One interview in particular where Weezy explains what laws he would change if he had the power (Spoiler: he would legalize weed, put cocaine back in Coca Cola and end child support payments). At one point Weezy compares himself to John Forbes Nash, Jr., the lead character in "A Beautiful Mind," and, although the rapper hasn’t been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, this film accentuates that fine line between genius and insanity. Incidentally it was that mind that intrigued the film’s executive producer Quincy “QD3” Jones III, to pursue the project. At the Los Angeles premiere, QD3 told AllHipHop.com, “I’ve followed Lil Wayne since he was with the Hot Boys and had always thought he was great lyrically but what intrigued me most about him was the fact that after achieving so much success as an artist that he chose to go back to college. That is what really made me want to take a deeper look into who Lil Wayne really was.” Wayne has already carved his legacy in Hip-Hop, but "The Carter" will forever been known as one of the first movies that chronicled it in an honest, respectable and balanced way.” Octavia Bostick, Allhiphop.com, 11/16/09 “In "The Carter" documentary, Lil' Wayne says a junkie could never do what he does, meaning record tracks all day, everyday. It's a delusional statement in a movie about the creative process of one of the best rappers ever to rap. For 77 minutes, "The Carter" shows Lil' Wayne traveling the world, recording songs in hotel rooms and studios, playing concerts to rabid fans, and receiving news that his album "Tha Carter 3" has gone platinum, an unheard of feat for a hiphop release in the age of downloading. But what "The Carter" is really about is the fact that nobody is willing to meaningfully communicate to the 27-year-old that his headlong plunge into regular codeine/promethazine cough syrup drinking, by-the-pound marijuana smoking, and round-the-clock studio recording has arced from a fun hobby — and the recipe for Wayne's stellar mid-/late-decade mixtape run — to a habit that's detrimental to his art and health. One close-to-tears scene with Wayne's longtime friend and manager Cortez Bryant is especially troubling. He says he doesn't ride in Wayne's tour bus because he can't bear to see him trashed on syrup. Bryant's been openly critical to Wayne's face, but documentary director Adam Bhala Lough uses old YouTube footage to show Wayne responding to that angrily, throwing a coat at Bryant and publicly shaming him on stage at a concert, yelling about how drugs aren't a problem for him, that he is a drug. Bryant says it was a tough thing to take, but didn't make him leave. His school-days history with Wayne is clearly complicated, and the message is that it's too easy to think he should separate himself professionally, that if he sincerely doesn't like Wayne's drugs, anything else is enablement. The truth is more nuanced than that. But for a whole host of people with more tenuous relationships with Wayne — like his blunt technician, for example, whose entire job seems to be to roll weed all day — it probably isn't. The outer valence shell orbiters hanging around laughing at whatever the strung-out millionaire says, handing another Styrofoam cup of syrup and soda to the rap superstar whenever he asks for it: these are the people who will hand Wayne the cup that kills him. Their existence brings to mind all the people who surrounded Michael Jackson in the weirder parts of his life, the people who were suddenly opinion-less when they realized they might attach themselves in some small way to his soaring, wayward star. In one scene, Wayne puts pressure on a tiny fifteen-year-old protege named Twist to be more sexually active, sharing that he himself had oral sex forced on him by a woman at the request of his rapping mentor Bryan "Birdman" aka "Baby" Williams when he was 11, and that it was a transformative "rape," a rape he enjoyed. Twist laughs like a nervous kid who thinks he's supposed to laugh, but a whole room full of adults pretend Wayne's story is funny and implicitly endorse some twisted tradition where an older man pushes sex on a younger man instead of letting him find his own path. When Wayne is disdainful of alcohol consumption or overly proud of his prolific-ness (sugar-coated as "work ethic"), nobody tells him those things don't disprove the fact he's living in his headphones and making lazier songs by the day, becoming more and more isolated from the world even as he pumps music into it. Early in the documentary, Wayne raps wickedly clever rhymes into a microphone in his Amsterdam hotel room, showing off his "no writing" technique, charging through remembered lines until he makes a mistake, then rewinding and recording again. It's brief, thrilling justification for an entire career, millions of earned dollars crammed into a few minutes. Playing with his froggy vocal tone and the sound/meaning of words, Wayne's verse is humorously virtuosic, its effect phantasmagorical, the whole thing done super quickly: "No one on the corner has swagger like I/ Too cool for school/ Fly boy high/ I drop out like I fail (fell) from the sky/ Hold up, let me wipe the cloud out my eye." It's a scene that, in a Hollywood world, would repeat throughout the entire documentary. Wayne as he rarely is, lucid and winning. It's how we'd like to see him.” Andrew Matson, Seattle Times 1/20/10 “It's not new, but hot damn, I just saw it and The Carter, a documentary following Lil' Wayne at the height of his creativity and stardom. It's awesome. The film-makers get great access, traveling with Wayne from country to country, from hotel suites to the tour bus and back, as he plays, records, and continues to sip the syrup. It's stunning really—Wayne appears to have no home, yet he is home. He takes his studio with him and records constantly. It's quite a pace, in part fueled by drugs, that I wonder how long he can keep up. Surely Wayne's prison sentence will jam a wrench in it for a while. If you're not a fan, The Carter has the potential to make you one. It's enlightening to see Wayne's raps in context (basically he's commenting on what's happening at the time of the filming through song). Even if the music doesn't convert you, the film is a worthwhile study of celebrity, art and drugs.” Andrew Tonry, The Portland Mercury, 1/14/10 BOMB THE SYSTEM “For BOMB THE SYSTEM director Adam Lough takes far more inspiration from the on-going graffiti culture than from the depleted stylistic formulas of recent commercial cinema.  His refreshing use of skewed camera angles, blasts of color and inventive cutting are deftly blended, becoming much more than calculated atmosphere.  The performances are also consistently strong, and Mark Webber in particular, in the central role, never hits a false note.  BOMB THE SYSTEM is welcome proof that the spirit of graffiti writing has a continuing cultural influence on both the subtleties of form and explosive personal expression. “ Jim Jarmusch, April 11, 2005 “A richly textured drama with an angry poetic edge that gets inside the obsessive subculture of New York graffiti artists, “Bomb the System” signals the arrival of a talented filmmaker in NYU film graduate Adam Bhala Lough. Displaying an insicive sense of place, an unaffected empathy for his impassioned characters, a kinetic visual style and a driving grasp of narrative and pacing, the 23 year-old writer-director provides a fascinating glimpse beneath the surface of the guerilla art world that avoids the prosaic bluster of so many indie street-life dramas…Expanding on an experimental short film that served as his thesis project, Lough brings sensitivity but also an urgent visceral feel to the gripping drama. Working with accomplished editor Jay Rabinowitz and lenser Ben Kutchins, the director roughs up the visual field with lots of jump cuts, dissolves and freeze frames, playing with film speed, focus, stock exposure and post-synched dialogue. Sharp use is made of heightened colors, often plucking out bold primary tones with the frame to match those of the graffiti art. Soundtrack is also densely complex, powered by a dynamic, extremely varied techno score from independent hip-hop producer El-P” David Rooney, Variety, May 12, 2003 “Adam Bhala Lough's hot little melodrama "Bomb the System" visually rhapsodizes the lives of contemporary graffiti artists in a rich, bleeding-at-midnight palette that blurs the line between film and the illegal public art practiced by its young, alienated characters. As they furtively slap their pseudonyms onto the walls and bridges of Lower Manhattan, the splendid cinematography by Ben Kutchins evokes a downscale New York answer to the icy Los Angeles noir of Michael Mann, but on a minuscule budget and with passion to spare. The movie sustains a vision of Lower Manhattan as a delirious phantasmagoria; its crowning glory, the Brooklyn Bridge, looms out of the shadows, the ultimate magnet for an egotist longing to stamp his identity on a monument. The movie runs on the synergy between this grimy but glamorous urban landscape and the emotional intensity of characters who at moments suggest contemporary descendants of the innocent, tormented teenagers in "Rebel Without a Cause." "Bomb the System," which rides on a subtle hip-hop soundtrack, might be described as soulful pulp; cult recognition awaits it.” Stephen Holden, New York Times, May 27, 2005 “Birthed from a blunt-fueled blend of Aronofskian frenzy and nostalgia for the agreeable griminess of mid-'90s Wu-Tang Clan videos, Adam Bhala Lough's debut, Bomb the System, bears the flamboyance of a film-schooled calling card…owing its wildish style to Requiem for a Dream's elision techniques and a fuzzily saturated palette of indigos, ultramarines, ochers, and absinthes suggestive of a thugged-out Christopher Doyle, BTS captures a wee-hour, back-alley NYC of train yards, rooftops, and fire escapes thrumming with the energy only an unabashed crush on urban culture could generate—all of this impossible without Def Jux honcho El P's trippy, 'tronic synth score. When Lough quits auditioning for his next film, he displays talent for tonal and rhythmic modulation, crescendoing in a haunting montage cut to Radiohead's "Like Spinning Plates." A needlessly circuitous plot twist leaves a bitter taste, but not before the film's scruffy charm does its work.” Pete L’Official, Village Voice, May 27, 2005 “Lough's impressive, if uneven, debut feature captures the adrenaline rush and contradictory nature of the simultaneously creative and criminal activity…Lough finds inspiration in the beats and rhythms of the music, giving the film's pacing a suitably jagged edge. Likewise, the film's visuals explode the primary colors used by the graffiti artists like neon across the dark alleys and shadowy fire escapes they favor.” Kevin Crust, Los Angeles Times, May 27, 2005 “Director Adam Bhala Lough’s film “Bomb the System” is 91 minutes of visual poetry. A poem that is so infused with emotion that the viewer becomes intoxicated with a variety of feelings. The editing is flawless. The soundtrack is pleasantly throbbing. I commend Adam Bhala Lough for challenging his audience to embrace contradictions. The film aggressively allows you to interpret it for yourself. Lough’s art makes you want to create and destroy at the same instant…” Dafna Alseh, Independent Film Quarterly Summer 2003 “No American Film generated a buzz going into and out of the Tribeca Film Festival than Bomb the System… a visually exhilarating debut… bristles with a high-voltage style, filled with saturated colors, freeze frames and lush set designs…Bomb is what Tribeca needed.” Filmmaker Magazine Summer 2003 “Bomb the System” is the most cutting edge movie you’ve never heard of…Director Adam Bhala Lough displays an intense enthusiasm and passion for the medium…” Carolyn Sun, Soma, Winter Issue 03/04 “Excellent action, great music, amazing artwork, and gorgeous Christopher Doyle type cinematography make this film an absolute treat…” ”**** / 4 stars out of 4 stars” Film Threat June 20 2003 “Stylishly directed by young filmmaker Adam Bhala Lough, Bomb the System skillfully traverses its urban terrain and submerges the audience fully into the world of graffiti writers. Shot on film with vibrant and vivid use of color permeating its scenes, Bomb wisely uses its style aggressively. The hip-hop music, the editing style, the bleached out color palate -- every storytelling device at Director Adam Bhala Lough's disposal is perfectly suited.” Aint it Cool News September 24 2003 “…as one "bomber" in Lough's film puts it, the moment of epiphany comes when a train full of tired, stressed commuters roll by the same drab sprawl they see everyday and their faces light up at seeing that landscape reclaimed by color and art, by some shadow-slipping bastard who got away with one. It's that rush that Lough's film captures so well, as it follows a group of young bombers as they experience the joys of making nocturnal, hit-and-run art, and the hassle of being pursued by "the man." *** 1/2 stars (out of 5) Giovanni Fazio, Japan Times, August 3, 2005 "Even when I'm eighty years old, I'll still be catching tags on the walls in the old folks' home," says Anthony Campo (Mark Webber), a sandy-haired New York graffiti writer whose citywide blest tags attract the attention of a foxy guerrilla artist and homicidal cop alike in writer-director Adam Bhala Lough's next-gen update of 1983's Wild Style. With strong whiffs of Trainspotting and Kids, Bomb the System distinguishes itself with streaky, Krylon-bright editing and El-P's eerie soundtrack beats. *** / 3 stars (out of 4)” Peter Relic, Rolling Stone October 6, 2005 “This film cops its name from a line in the classic graf documentary Style Wars, and if history is fair to this title, it will enter the pantheon of required graffiti viewing just like its namesake. An impressive first film from director Adam Bhala Lough, Bomb The System is not a documentary of graf culture but a full-fledged feature packed with sex, violence and a lot of hot cinematography. Managing to interweave the graffitti ethos and its contradictions into an engaging story about a writer named Blest (Mark Webber) and his crew, the film is a grainy saga of New York claustrophobia and outsider art. What is particularly nice about the film is that it manages to include a lot of working graf artists, including Gano Grills (who plays Blest’s best friend Justin “Buk 50” Broady) and Lee Quinones, without overburdening the story with excessive homage. Adding to the films street cred is the score, produced almost entirely by Def Jux founder El-P, whose rusty train-car beats fit beautifully with the ink drip stylings of the film.” CMJ Relay, November 28, 2005 “To "bomb" is b-boy slang meaning to create graffiti. In Adam Bhala Lough's striking debut, the "system" is the NYPD's Vandal Squad. Anthony (Mark Webber, Broken Flowers) is a 19-year-old bomber--tag name "Blest"--with plans to go legit, like Keith Haring or Jean-Michel Basquiat back in the "wild style" 1980s, who went from New York's mean streets to its most exclusive galleries. Alas, both met tragic ends. Blest, too, appears to be on the fast track to artistic success...or personal decline. He may have skills, but he's also a thief and a drug user. When he meets the politically minded Alex (Jaclyn DeSantis), it seems he's finally found the angel he needs to guide him in the right direction. After all, he already lost his brother to the graffiti game. Alex wants him to run away with her, but that's easier said than done. Bomb the System is the kind of ambitious first feature where, despite the best of intentions, style trumps substance every time. That said, the look NYU grad Lough achieves--an impressionistic world of black skies, glowing lights, and saturated colors--helps his rather obvious message that crime doesn't pay go down with ease. The tragic tale gets a welcome boost from El-P's ominous instrumental score along with moody tracks from Schoolly D, Madvillain, and Radiohead. --Kathleen C. Fennessy, Amazon.com staff reviewer, January 30, 2006 FARMHOUSE The "Broken Flowers" DVD, while predictably minimalist given helmer Jim Jarmusch's involvement, takes a more creative approach, serving up a few offbeat extras. The "start to finish" featurette strings together droll micro-vignettes with the snap of a clapboard. Even more intriguing is the enigmatically named "Farmhouse" featurette, which explores Jarmusch's approach to filmmaking in general and "Broken Flowers" in particular. "I like to have scenes where you have no idea what's going to happen next," he says. After ruminating further on the meaning of the film, helmer avers: "It's not my job to even know what they mean. My job is to make them." Diane Garrett, Variety, January 15, 2006 WEAPONS “There are many things to like about "Weapons," from 27-year-old writer-director Adam Bhala Lough, but unfortunately, there are just as many things to dislike. I could dismiss it as yet another exploitative, trying-to-be-significant urban drama about messed-up teens, and a bad one at that -- but I can't ignore that shockingly effective opening shot, the naturalistic acting that renders most of the characters so believable, and the fascinating racial undertones. One of the nifty tricks Bhala Lough pulls off is shifting the point of view regularly, replaying events from other angles and offering more insight into the complex world of these directionless, angry teenagers. The wandering, documentary-style camerawork enhances the effect. It is also very interesting how racially integrated the characters are. The violence is generally white-vs-black or black-vs-white, but that is incidental: Race is never the reason for the tension. Reggie didn't care that his sister was dating a white guy, and the reason Jason was embarrassed to tell people he was seeing her wasn't that she was black, but that he already had a girlfriend. In fact, race is never mentioned at all. The characters, white and black, are all equally loathsome and trashy, and Bhala Lough goes to some lengths to establish parallels between them that transcend color.” - Eric D. Snider efilmcritic.com, January 19, 2007 “A slow, hazy hip-hop trip through screwed-up young America, "Weapons" is the anti-"Boyz n the Hood." Less concerned with character development, social statements, and climatic revelations, director Adam Bhala Lough's sophomore effort is a woozy mood-piece about dead-end teens and the cycle of violence in contemporary life. Surprisingly, "Weapons" doesn't continue the stylistic flourishes and kinetic energy of Lough's Spirit-Award-nominated debut "Bomb the System"; rather it reveals an antithetical aesthetic. Using ample long hand-held takes and wide-angle lenses, "Weapons" aims not to wow its audience, but hypnotize them--like the dope-smoking stupor that surrounds many of the characters. In fact, the movie's most memorable aspect may be its soundtrack by Southern hip-hop artist DJ Screw, whose somnolent raps emulate the feeling of sipping "syrup," a.k.a. codeine.” Anthony Kauffman, Indiewire.com Jan 19, 2007 "Weapons" brings the perennial problems of teenagers into the twenty-first century with a decidedly downbeat treatment. The film's stylish and innovative look, influenced by the slowed-down rhythms of Southern hip-hop, doesn't quite carry the elemental story of love and revenge. Its heart and soul may appeal to the new lost generation, but not the standard indie crowd. Shot in the suburban nowhere of Southern California, the film could really take place wherever kids are restless, bored and disaffected. That's always been a recipe for violence, and director Adam Bhala Lough does not disappoint on that count. "Weapons" centers on two groups of friends, one white and one black, who, in a nice touch, seem to more or less peacefully coexist until the explosion. Constructed around the music of the southern hip hopper DJ Screw, which aims to simulate the laconic sound of a codeine high, the film relies on endless handheld shots and slow motion sequence in cars and at parties. There is a lot of super-saturated color meant to suggest the drug-induced state. Performances by the ensemble cast feel authentic, especially Dano as the loser Chris and Smith as the burnt out Jason. Amy Ferguson, as one of the neighborhood girls who has been around the block at sixteen, captures the dead-end feeling of a life evaporating before it starts. With a keener eye for detail than story, Lough has definitely tapped a vein in the underbelly of America's youth. But for all its snappy editing (by Jay Rabinowitz) and visual bravado (by cinematographer Manuel Albert Claro), "Weapons" is not a pretty picture.” James Greenburg, Hollywood Reporter, January 21, 2007 “This movie raised a debate that I often struggle with: can I enjoy a movie and view it as a good film when I absolutely hate the characters? The film is told in non-linear, titled vignettes (Lough has been watching a lot of Tarantino, apparently). I did not love this movie. For about the first third, I actively detested it: there's an early scene with Chris, Sean and Jason riding to the hoops court in slo-mo set to deafening rap music that borders on self-parody. I had to stifle a laugh. But the film gets better, and it actually is technically well-made; the cinematography is excellent, and I was amazed to learn in the Q&A that the only artificial lighting in the whole film is in the very first scene (when we see Cannon's head blown off in graphic detail). The pulsing hip-hop score eventually becomes mesmerizing, and the film's frankness and, at times, brutal violence makes it an ultimately effective portrait of a group of lost youth. But there are some reasons to see "Weapons," most notably Smith and Dano, who has become one of the best young character actors we have. With every close-up, Chris' face reveals the hurt and alienation underlying his shocking behavior.” Aint it Cool News.com January 21, 2007 “Weapons was the first film I saw at Sundance that had an "indie" feel to it - grainy film, hand held camera, and wierd things that I guess were supposed to be "artistic" but fell flat. For one thing Lough did the old "watch events from different points of view" thing, but all that did was make me feel like I had to sit through a bad film three times instead of just one. Then he had this habit of holding a shot on a face or scene where nothing was happening WAY too long. It almost felt as if in a few scenes he just forgot to say "cut!" Finally, in the middle of the film he inserted this weird, freeze frame montage of the main and supporting characters.” Screen Rant.com January 21, 2007 “I'm still not quite sure about the degree to which I like Adam Bhala Lough's film Weapons, which premiered in competition Friday at Sundance, but there's no question in my mind that it's long, slow-motion opening sequence is one of the most indelibly brilliant introductions I've ever seen -- so great, so outrageous, in fact, that it defies or possibly even precludes description. It owes more to the tense, tour de force terror of Irreversible than to the technique of a Touch of Evil or Snake Eyes, yet Weapons holds its own against any of those titles by simply extending its right hand by way of acquaintance before bitchslapping you with its left. Indeed, Lough is about as bashful as Gaspar Noe or Larry Clark, both of whose prurient influences Weapons reflects in spades. As with Noe's Irreversible, which begins with its story's ending and features ironic (at best) new uses for a fire extinguisher, Lough's narrative splinters into revenge scenarios as enacted from places of doomed love. If Noe had directed Kids, it would have looked, sounded and induced dark (and darkly comic) shudders like Lough's film. "I was kind of disgusted by what had come out when I wrote the script," Lough said. "I can say that what's close to me in the movie are the details rather than the broad strokes; the way the characters walk, the way they talk, certain things they say, what they drink, what they smoke, how they fight -- that's details from my own life. The actual story and plot are not. What I do is just take the details from my life and put those into the script. One of my mentors at the Sundance lab told me God is in the details, which is, I think, the best advice I ever got out of the lab. If you can take the tiny little details that are real -- that feel really real to you -- and apply them into the movie, then that's what's of interest to me as a filmmaker. The broad strokes in the plot, I don't like it so much; sometimes I find it bothersome. But what's beautiful to me are the little details, and that was drawn from my personal experience and my life." The details translate to manifold symbols of potential gone awry: Reggie's quest detours him from a must-have job interview; his exhortations to revenge take place in front of refrigerators plastered with photos of the lost innocents he and his friends once embodied. Or perhaps they didn't; the ambiguity of its tragedy is perhaps Weapons' most devastating quality. Lough's talent is itself quite formidable, his camera seeming dislocated from its subjects yet seemingly the only record of their existence (it's no coincidence Dano's character tapes his exploits, and that his pivotal role is stitched into in the narrative via his own record-keeping) and his skill with actors hinting at a hands-off benevolence. "Adam's a really, really collaborative director," said Dano. "I think that makes him a joy for a the actors to work with because you feel like you're really a part of the creative experience and creating something kind of organic on the spot rather than being forced or pushed into something. It was intense and we were certainly focused, but it felt really good and it was a good time." He can speak for himself. I can't get that burger joint out of my head.” - ST Van Airsdale, The Reeler, January 17, 2007 “Weapons succeeds in its mission of telling a realistic, gritty, violent tale of sex, drugs and revenge. Lough skillfully directs the film utilizing long, sometimes quiet takes which impress upon you the documentary-esque feel of the story making you believe what you're seeing onscreen. The entirely handheld camera approach can backfire if misused, but the camera never once gets in the way of the story or stumbles along to keep up. All of the acting is done well, including Cannon. He manages to come off as authentic in his role, despite his top-tier celebrity status. Here, you'll believe he's the conflicted inner-city youngster that he portrays. Most of the other main characters aren't given many lines, so they're required to carry the story largely on the strength of their reactions. Again, it all comes off as natural. Even the hip-hop/drum and base fusion soundtrack manages to work, playing as a kind of metaphor for the racial tension presented in certain aspects of the film.” James Musgrove, IGN.com, February 24, 2009 “I watched Weapons several days ago, and I'm still not entirely sure what to think of it. The famous phrase is "don't judge a book by its cover", but the black-and-white photograph of stars Nick Cannon, Paul Dano and Mark Webber on the front of the DVD, complete with whizzing bullets, dumb tagline and logo that replaces the "o" with a bullseye had already tricked me into thinking I could accurately visualize the silly action movie inside. In reality, Weapons is a Sundance Grand Jury Prize nominee about social recklessness amongst modern American teenagers, and though its effectiveness is debatable, it's definitely not the movie I expected it to be... The characters are also surprisingly well-performed, especially Nick Cannon (I'm not sure he's quite impressive, but he holds his own with ease) and Mark Webber (most people might recognize him from Freddy vs. Jason). The movie is also more interested in how the audience feels about the events that are occurring and less about whether or not those events themselves are interesting all on their own. Director Adam Bhala Lough shoots in a handheld style designed to accentuate the reality of the film. The constant movement is a little annoying, although this isn't a Bourne film, so I doubt anyone will get motion sick. Like any good Sundance auteur, Lough also plays out Weapons in non-chronological order, which flattens out the natural tension of the story so that Lough can create new tension. I'm not sure what purpose it serves, but the film flows pretty well, so I guess it doesn't matter. No, the Weapons is not its ambition or style but that it wants to send a message, yet it doesn't seem to have any concrete feelings about what that message is. Is it about the rising tide of violence in America? Is it about the rash decisions kids make in order to be accepted, fit in, and stand for something? The title itself implies that the movie is about weapons of some sort, thematic, literal, or otherwise, but there's not much emphasis on them in the film, other than their basic presence. I suppose the film raises interesting questions, which is a commendable trait, and it isn't preachy, which most movies on the subject (especially independent films) have a tendency to go way overboard on. I appreciated most of what Weapons was trying to show me and the craft that went into presenting it, but at the end I was unsure of what it actually wanted me to see. It's an intriguing conversation piece of a movie, and viewers with patience will probably find the movie to be worth a look, especially for the surprisingly strong performances from the young cast, but when the credits roll you may find yourself forced to make up your own mind about what the movie is actually about.” 3 ½ stars (out of 5). Tyler Foster, DVD Talk, April 10, 2009 “Weapons opens with a bang, immediately bringing into relief its rather loaded title (pun intended) and telling us quite bluntly, “This ain’t your father’s Boyz in the ‘Hood.” Nick Cannon, the star of Drumline and an actor more talented than you might suspect, is eating a cheeseburger. It has way too much ketchup. We see him lift it—in slow-motion, with credits and blaring hip-hop accompanying the image—and put it in his mouth. He seems to be enjoying it, as any red meat eating young man would. All the while those eyes stare right at us, implicating the audience in the moment, chewing away, this handsome, all-American boy (at least in this age of messianic Black politicians). Yet once the credits end, a shadow begins to emerge from behind, in the front of the sunlit Burger joint. An out of focus white man stands in the background (eventually we will learn that this is Paul Dano, in perhaps his most penetrating and complete performance to date). He hoists one of several Weapons that will be on display for the next 80 or so minutes—in this case a double barrel shotgun—and he blows Mr. Cannon’s high cheekbones, or at least part of one of them, directly into the lens. Everyone’s attention has been immediately acquired, and for good reason: Adam Bhala Lough, this film’s extraordinarily talented 29-year-old director, knows how to never let it go. About 30 minutes or so into this revelatory tale of misbegotten vengeance among the young and dumb in an monotonous exurban hell, I started to feel like I was being plunged into some early 21st century version of Thomas Hobbes’ “state of nature.” This is a place where pervasive lawlessness, boredom and mistrust fuel a stringent pathology that centers on the notion that violence reprisal can be just and normative. Where it seems every individual’s desires, be it sex, justice or self-dignity, are only achievable through violence and sadism. Of course, these desires are never met in an ecosystem such as this. “War of all against all,” as Hobbes put it in Leviathan, leads to lives that are “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short.” The environment of Bhala Lough’s second feature is a distinctly American one, a place where small ranch houses, ones paid for with sub-prime mortgages and bad faith, bleed together in anonymity, where young men smoke blunts and complain about the heat, where fathers see their only children for the first time since they’ve returned from State College and can only ask, “You got a cigarette, boy?”, where lives are shattered by senseless violence all too easily and where small dreams are generally deferred, although they are more than likely never even conjured. Shot in the working class suburbs of East L.A., it has a tone and feel uncommon for films about dangerous youths. Without condescending to his small circle of early twentysomethings bent on revenge and tethered to an ethos that can only be described as nihilism, Bhala Lough shows us people whose lives are dominated by sluggishness, ignorance, depravity and pain in a rigorous but accessible way, prying empathy out of us without letting his subjects off the hook for their transgressions or their mediocrity. Unfolding mostly in a series of breathlessly long tracking shots, home video and slow-motion interludes which suggest the tedium of its setting and within the lives of its young, angry characters, this gem of Sundance 07’ has, after a sticky two years in distribution limbo following its Sundance bow, finally arrived on DVD via Lionsgate and not a moment to soon. It contains the best performances in the young careers of several emerging performers such as Cannon and Mark Webber, but Paul Dano steals the show. He plays an apathetic, angry, forgotten and disliked person, a young man who has a small DV camera and a double barrel shotgun and isn’t sure which one to use first. The type of individual almost no one likes to encounter and fewer want to watch a film about. Yet Dano invests his character with such authenticity and naked human sorrow that we can’t help but be cauterized by his self-destruction. He uses the camera for pretty much the entire film, but only uses the shotgun in the first and last moments of Weapons, ones which happen to be the same moment, and as the film doubles back many times, in deeply unsettling but hypnotic detail, to show us just why he had to blow Nick Cannon’s face into the lens, you will bear witness to a film that will in time be seen as evidence of the early maturation of some very talented performers and an equally promising filmmaker. — Brandon Harris, Hammer To Nail.com 4/12/09 THE UPSETTER Reviewer Dave Neff gives The Upsetter an “A+” “Frankly the best music documentary I have seen in a long long time...It is equally a documentation of 30 years of Jamaican music and culture and a character study of one of the most creative and inspiring human beings alive today. At once touching and shocking the film really did a great job of patching together the fragmented life of Lee Scratch Perry and the impact on music that he has had. The best part? Every one who attended Tuesday's screening got a Fax from Lee himself.” Behind the Big Screen 3/17/08 “SXSW:: The Upsetter” by Dave Neff. Reviewer gives a lukewarm assessment of The Upsetter, wishing the filmmakers had incorporated interviews with “some of the big musicians who claim Perry as an inspiration” (ie. Paul McCartney, The Clash or Beastie Boys) but states that Lee Perry is a “captivating character” who “ultimately influenced an entire generation with the invention of sampling” and has “continued to inspire and work with contemporary musicians. Aint it Cool News 3/13/08 “SXSW ’08! Annette Kellerman on The Upsetter” by Annette Kellerman “Perhaps the towering figure of dub music and one of pop music's all-time mad geniuses. So influential in the world of Jamaican music is Perry that he's been featured in nearly every single film or television documentary about it, but amazingly enough, this is the first one to focus on him exclusively — a fact that's almost unbelievable given the reach of his five-decade career. The Upsetter, written and directed by Ethan Higbee and Adam Bhala Lough, certainly can't be accused of not paying its subject the proper respect. The filmmakers are almost uncannily attuned to Perry's colossal reputation — to a fault, in fact: they treat Perry, whose appeal rests largely on a sly sense of humor and a reputation as a bit of a crazy, with a degree of whispering awe that verges on the reverential. Does this all mean that The Upsetter isn't worth seeing, however? Absolutely not. Whatever its other flaws — and, to be fair to Higbee and Lough, they stem more from the nature of music docs more than any inherent problem with their approach — it's still an hour and a half of absolutely fantastic music from one of the most unique talents in the business, and there's tons of rare and entertaining archival footage as well as more Lee Perry on camera than you'll ever see anywhere else. The pure joy, complexity and heaviness of the man's music alone makes this a movie worth seeing, and for all its reverence, it provides some nice insight into that music's architect as well.” Nerve.com 3/11/08 “SXSW Review: “The Upsetter” by Leonard Price “The man smokes inhuman amounts of weed, as any good Rasta should, yet other behaviors depicted in the movie – like his manic religious proclamations, incoherent songs, and the fact that he burned down his famous home studio because of evil spirits – raise the question of mental illness. I realize that artistic genius is often coupled with insanity, but the topic is skirted a bit here, though. While “The Upsetter” will certainly bring wider recognition to Perry, it really only scratched the surface. Archival footage of the man is, understandably, rare, but the film skips much of the last 30 years. To be fair, Perry does seem far more subdued in the recent interviews he gives to Higbee and Lough, and admits spending the bulk of the 80s in an alcoholic haze, so perhaps there just wasn’t anything to report. As it stands, “The Upsetter” ends up leaving us wanting a great deal more information about its subject.” Film Threat 3/13/08 “The Upsetter” By Pete Vonder Haar “Featuring some of the most eye-catching and electrifying archival footage of any music doc in recent memory even at just 95 minutes long it’s hard to disagree with the two filmmakers claims that the film is the definitive portrait of Lee Perry...Higbee and Lough are clearly enthusiasts of Perry’s work and their reverence for the man known as “Scratch” immistakably shines through in “The Upsetter” and it’s easy to get caught up in (we were also struck with the strange urge to purchase a steel drum after the film’s closing credits).” Documentary Channel 3/08 “The Upsetter” by C.D. “Another weed-heavy film and a fascinating documentary on reggae’s greatest producer/performer/Rastaman. Although Scratch is obviously bat-shit crazy and perennially self-destructive, he’s also funny, smart, and as creative as they come.” High Times 3/21/08 “Festival Review: 2008 SXSW Film Festival” By Mitch Myers “Directors Ethan Higbee and Adam Bhala Lough make smart use of archival footage and new material to tell a streamlined version of Perry's story and role in the rise of the Jamaican music industry.” National Geographic (Music) 3/18/08 “The World Comes to Austin Part Two” by Tom Pryor “The Upsetter is an intriguing profile about a major influence in the music we hear today. Definitely a must-see for fans of Reggae, Dub, Hip-Hop and fanatic music lovers.” The Filmlot.com “The Upsetter” 3/8/08 “Ethno-musicological dig with a bad-ass soundtrack into a biopic of a man whose creativity, spirituality, and ambition touch the delicate fold between art and insanity. Clips of a shirtless Scratch free-styling religious mantras in front of a sign that might have been written by a schizophrenic beg the question “Is there a difference between creativity and mental illness?” Adding weight to the madness side is the filmmakers’ choice to tell the story only with voice-over narration and interviews with Perry himself. This strategy creates the eerie sensation that Perry is, in fact, isolated in a world where the only voices are his own and that of the omniscient in the sky...While intriguing, this latter half of the film does suffer from some extended edits that might have benefited from another cut. It becomes unclear whether the filmmakers themselves see Perry as an eccentric genius or an unstable manic-depressive. And perhaps that’s the point. (Yes, that is the point) Regardless, the soundtrack Scratch has created remains absolutely transcendent throughout, a landmark monument to his connection with the Most High—that link where sanity drops away and only music makes sense.” PopMatters 3/12/08 “SXSW 2008 Film: Days 1 and 2 - The Upsetter” by Justin Follin “The monologues become tedious all too quickly, but then go on and on (and on). Even worse, giving over so much of The Upsetter’s running time to Perry’s incoherent rants does him or the directors any favors. The monologues make Perry appear and sound mentally ill. Exposing audiences to Perry’s lengthy monologues make the directors look both like they’re exploiting Perry for their own (unclear) ends...“ /film 3/17/08 “SXSW Movie Review: The Upsetter” by Mel Valentin “Anyone who thinks Perry is merely crazy doesn't understand what a miracle this level of spoken word performance is, and how most of us could not—if our lives depended on it—produce the volume or quality of original content that flows from him at all times. Every little phrase that tumbles out of his mouth seems to have a natural rhythm to it....“He also talks about his eventual work with the Clash and how thrilled he was that punks liked reggae. It's in this sequence that Perry declares himself to actually be a punk because punks do what they want and don't worry about it. For me, that was the definitive moment in The Upsetter because when an artist as seminal as Perry is able to step outside the genre-box that he himself helped to create, it signifies uncommonly broad perspective. One that even geniuses sometimes have a hard time achieving...By leaving in the (spoken word) performances directors Ethan Higbee and Adam Bhala Lough let you see how strong is Perry's artistic drive and how many facets there are to the crazy diamond of him....Although there isn't much of anyone's perspective other than Perry's in the film. It's almost as if Lough and Higbee couldn't look away from their subject; they were too mesmerized by Perry to bother talking with anyone else in his life. This doesn't give the viewer the most three dimensional portrait of Perry that it could have; it's more the Errol Morris treatment where you go down the rabbit hole and hang with the Mad Hatter for a spell.” Boombox Serenade 3/8/08 “Lee Scratch Perry: I am a punk” by Shannon Coulter --- INTERVIEWS Radio: National Public Radio, Talk of the Nation “Does Sundance Still Serve a Purpose?” January 22, 2007 KPFA Berkley, California “Hard Knock Radio: Two Films About Graffiti Art” 4:00 PM February 13, 2004 WNYC New York City “The Tribeca Film Festival Special” 7:00 PM May 4, 2003 Producer, Aaron Cohen Internet: Gothamist (May 28, 2005) http://www.gothamist.com/archives/2005/05/28/a_talk_with_director_adam_bhala_lough_bomb_the_system.php Writer’s Bench (2005) http://www.at149st.com/adam1.html Suicide Girls (2005) http://suicidegirls.com/words/Bomb+the+System+director+Adam+Bhala+Lough/ Youth Outlook (2005) http://www.youthoutlook.org/news/view_article.html?article_id=a239b6da928d3cd66aacbdd6387a5053 Sundance Channel (2007) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HQpjYdKjBc4 Indiewire (2007) http://www.indiewire.com/article/park_city_07_interview_adam_bhala_lough_i_had_a_dream_one_night._i_woke_up_/ The Resident “Episode #2” (April 22, 2006): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pfqDRGNEcuQ “Watch This Shit” (August 1, 2008): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KOARRzvBvuQ Hammer to Nail (May 20, 2009) http://www.hammertonail.com/dialogues/a-conversation-with-adam-bhala-lough/ Seattle Times (January 25, 2010) http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/matsononmusic/2010889294_the_carter_director_adam_bhala.html?syndication=rss MTV (June 10, 2010) http://moviesblog.mtv.com/2010/06/10/exclusive-splatter-sisters-writerdirector-adam-bhala-lough-on-samurai-marilyn-manson-skinemax/ http://www.cinefamily.org/%22%20%5Ct%20%22_blankhttp://adambhalalough.tumblr.com/http://www.gothamist.com/archives/2005/05/28/a_talk_with_director_adam_bhala_lough_bomb_the_system.phphttp://www.at149st.com/adam1.htmlhttp://suicidegirls.com/words/Bomb+the+System+director+Adam+Bhala+Lough/http://www.youthoutlook.org/news/view_article.html?article_id=a239b6da928d3cd66aacbdd6387a5053http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HQpjYdKjBc4http://www.indiewire.com/article/park_city_07_interview_adam_bhala_lough_i_had_a_dream_one_night._i_woke_up_/http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pfqDRGNEcuQhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KOARRzvBvuQhttp://www.hammertonail.com/dialogues/a-conversation-with-adam-bhala-lough/http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/matsononmusic/2010889294_the_carter_director_adam_bhala.html?syndication=rsshttp://moviesblog.mtv.com/2010/06/10/exclusive-splatter-sisters-writerdirector-adam-bhala-lough-on-samurai-marilyn-manson-skinemax/shapeimage_1_link_0shapeimage_1_link_1shapeimage_1_link_2shapeimage_1_link_3shapeimage_1_link_4shapeimage_1_link_5shapeimage_1_link_6shapeimage_1_link_7shapeimage_1_link_8shapeimage_1_link_9shapeimage_1_link_10shapeimage_1_link_11shapeimage_1_link_12