'Trapped in the Closet': R. Kelly Stuffs Stockings, God Knows What Else with All 12 Chapters
![]() I had heard about this, but had not been able to set aside enough time to check it out until now. And the rumors have indeed given way to a glorious reality: R. Kelly's Trapped in the Closet--at least the first 12 chapters--is now on DVD. And how totally fucking peerlessly brilliant is this film? Let us ask the directors' publicist: What began as a simple music video has become a cultural, cliff-hanging phenomenon. From the first airing of the four-minute video for “Chapter 1” of R&B superstar R. Kelly’s song cycle, Trapped in the Closet, the broadcast of each successive new “episode” went on to become a nationally-awaited event. The two people responsible for turning an unprecedented labor-of-love “urban opera” from one of pop music’s biggest names into a cinematic mini-epic are independent producer Ann Carli and maverick director Jim Swaffield. It is all enough to make me want to run down to Swaffield's New York digs and kiss his goddamned ring. And while of course this kind of fulsome hype may rot your teeth, it supplies no match for the brain-cramping blend of camp and narrative genius ("I said 'Why don’t I just go out the window?' / 'Yes, except for one thing, we’re on the 5th flo' ' / Think! Think! 'Quick! Put me in the closet!' / And now I'm in this darkest closet trying to figure out / Just how I'm gonna get my crazy ass out this house") that makes Trapped in the Closet one of the underrated classics of 2005. Seriously. My tongue is not in my cheek, my irony-ectomy has yielded its gain. If it were not for the lingering three-year hangover of Dave Chappelle and "R. Kelly's Doo-Doo Butter," I would canonize these motherfuckers right now. But is it not enough to just own their film and to stay up at night deconstructing imagination, audacity and its future? I mean, it sounds as though this is a bottomless renewable resource, like Christmas trees or great coffee. Could Kelly's brow-furrowed best really be yet to come? Should I pinch myself or kill myself at the prospect of an infinite "urban opera"? Who can say? All I know for sure is that my holiday shopping just got a lot easier. Posted by stvanairsdale on Nov 4, 2005 at 11:57AM |
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