3 min. thoughts: ATL

"Cascade was a right of passage for every kid in the A, but for us, it was something more. School sucked, rent past due, your girl left you; on Sunday night none of that matters. You could be whoever you wanted to be. Even when the rink was crunk on Sunday night, sometimes I felt like I was out there all by myself, floating above it all. No lies, no pain, and no worries about what tomorrow might bring.” 

Another day in February, another watch checked off my Black History Month list. If only there were more days in the month. ATL is one of the warmest slices of life out there and a solid coming of age film. As the name denotes, the story threads us through the fabric of Atlanta culture, specifically the south side neighborhood of Mechanicsville. For being so honest to its setting it's interesting that none of the two writers or director are from Atlanta (co-screenwriter Tina Gordon does have a writing credit on Drumline, so that’s something). But the home grown sons shine in the casting, with T.I. and Big Boi playing opposite of each other as the concerned older brother and the predatory drug dealer that he's shielding his younger kin from.

Hear me out for a second, ATL is to Atlanta what Saturday Night Fever is to Italians in New York. A group of young friends standing at the edge of the rest of their lives, seemingly bound to their lower class neighborhoods, all of them looking to escape their troubles on the dance floor. Except in ATL it’s the hardwood of the skating rink, and it's Sunday night instead of Saturday. This movie gives so much life to the Black subculture of roller skating, and they put it on such a vibrant display with smooth choreography and eye-popping editing choices. And T.I.’s narration throughout highlights the film as a crash course in Atlanta Studies 101.

The national treasure himself Keith David plays a character that represents the biggest theme of the film, maintaining integrity to one’s upbringing. As a wealthy black CEO who has finally assimilated into White social circles he desperately hides his Southside Atlanta origins. His daughter New New and her schoolmate Esquire are both on opposite trajectories trying to become who they are not; while she hides her rich girl status on Sunday nights skating at Cascade, Esquire (hence the nickname) is on his Talented Mr. Ripley shit conning his way to a letter of recommendation to a prestigious university. ATL should be held in much higher regard when you think of Black coming of age films, not just Boyz N the Hood.