Snoop's spiritual transformation oftentimes feels like little more than an elaborate put-on, as he meets with Nyabinghi Rasta and other Jamaican legends in a supposed quest for enlightenment. This transition might have come from within, but it reeks of a intricate form of personal rebranding. It also just seems like an excuse for Snoop to smoke even more weed than normal, a notion once thought to be scientifically impossible. Far more interesting are the biographical and historical moments, when Snoop talks about his past as a gangbanger and his beginnings in the rap business. He speaks with unflinching honesty, takes on a kind of hushed, confessional tone. It's pretty compelling stuff, too, full of violence, betrayal, questionable business dealings and strained friendships. We never thought we'd hear the words "Master P saved me" come out of someone's mouth, but there is Snoop, saying it aloud.
Also of note is Snoop's friendship and creative partnership with en vogue producer Diplo, who is helping load the Snoop Lion project with (it must be admitted) some pretty wicked beats. As the mastermind of the sonic side of the Snoop Lion endeavor, Diplo seems committed too, and if this whole thing is all a ruse and not a genuine quest for spiritual betterment, at least it's a really cool-sounding ruse. [B-]
"I Am Divine" is just as garish, splashy, and loud as Divine himself – it's all glittery eye make-up and off-color dick jokes and snazzy animated graphics. What's so shocking is how kind of profound it is, with Divine coming across as a genuine trailblazer, one who challenged gender roles and notions of body image and traditional beauty, a person who lived an incredibly complex inner life and who worked really, really hard.
Of course that makes everything seem so serious, which, despite its melancholy ending (Divine died tragically at the age of 42, a day before he was supposed to start an extended stint on "Married… With Children"), "I Am Divine" most certainly is not. It is first and foremost a hoot, featuring a number of hilarious interviews with Waters and the various collaborators from back then (including Mink Stole, Tab Hunter and members of drag queen group The Cockettes) and lots of little seen footage of Divine's stage shows, which seemed like a hilarious, totally gay assault.
This is the definitive biography of Divine, too, delving into his music career, his lovers, and his addictions (although only fleetingly – remember, this doc is all about pep and sparkle). For a subject that seems to have been overexposed, there are some new insights and footage that we have personally never seen before despite being keenly interested in the subject matter. Divine was a big guy with a big heart, and this documentary does him justice and then some. [A]