There’s something inherently exciting about a thriller that takes place entirely within one apartment building or complex — a setting that is contained while threatening potentially nasty surprises behind every door. Prolific indie writer-director-producer Wes Miller’s Orlando-shot “Black Heat” doesn’t offer much more than that basic concept, yet he keeps this high-body-count action exercise pounding along in lively if blunt fashion.
Starring “Straight Outta Compton’s” Jason Mitchell and Tabatha Robinson (aka rapper DreamDoll) as parents rescuing their daughter from criminals at a sprawling housing project, the film could have used some additional polish in terms of both script and style. Still, it’s got enough propulsive energy to keep viewers entertained. Dark Star Pictures and production company BLacklight are co-releasing to over 200 U.S. theaters on March 28.
In the opening sequence, marital couple Malik (Mitchell) and Alexis (Robinson) are traveling in their SUV, bantering about favorite movies like “Boyz n the Hood,” quoting dialogue to one another. It’s only when they reach their apparent destination that we realize they’ve got a backseat passenger — or captive, actually, in the form of bound-and-gagged Kelvin (Garrett Lee Hendricks). They’ve seized him to track the whereabouts of their runaway child Taina (Talha Barberousse), a 15-year-old suspected to have fallen into very bad company.
Having led them this far, Kelvin refuses to provide further help, beyond springing the unpleasant news that their daughter has likely already been introduced to heroin and sex work. A few punches later, they leave him in a parking lot on the periphery of a vast two-story residential project where King David (rapper NLE Choppa) presides over any number of illegal activities.
We don’t get much backstory about our heroes. But it’s obvious they are no shrinking violets, donning what another character calls protective “homemade SWAT uniforms” as well as ample weaponry in order to do battle. Their approach is sufficiently aggro that by the time they’ve left their very first stop (an uncooperative security guard’s office), there are already two dead bodies.
That number quickly climbs as the couple breaks down one door after another among 220 units. They disrupt plenty of kinky scenes between irked prostitutes and johns, en route acquiring one ally in weary veteran working girl Re-Re (Shiobann Amisial). It is fortunate that she has some emergency medical know-how, since as many bad guys as they take out, the husband and wife also take a lot of abuse — particularly once Kelvin gets free, alerting King David and his myriad well-armed goons to their uninvited guests.
This kind of two-people-against-an-army gist is an open invitation to stylized bullet ballets, elaborate fight choreography and other flourishes fully indulged in such memorable prior single-setting action opuses as the “Raid” films. But “Black Heat”’s staging is workmanlike rather than ingenious or flamboyant, its only notable fillip being some colorful lighting effects to counter the plainness of the motel-room-like environs.
While Kelvin snarks at our protagonists that 1973 bad-taste blaxploitation classic “The Mack” would have prepared them better for what they’ll face than “Boyz,” this film is less frequently outrageous than it is maudlin. That’s true especially in gauzy daddy-loves-his-daughter flashbacks, plus a corny twist midway which swings the story into soap-operatic territory. When her parents find Taina at last, her reasons for leaving them in favor of a violent pimp seem petulant at best. It doesn’t help, either, that while we’re told the character looks mature for her age, performer Barberousse seems a good decade past 15.
Nonetheless, injections of trite sentimentality only temporarily slow a progress that sustains its own overall momentum. Ditto numerous routine logic gaps: Our protagonists never seem diminished by bullet wounds or beat-downs, while mysteriously no police turn up to investigate at least an hour of loud gunfire. Like the “Death Wish” films of yore, “Black Heat” sells a particular kind of gonzo vigilante fantasy in which realistic details needn’t factor, while Paul Koch’s synthy score sets the right tone of B-movie thrill-seeking.
In this unsubtle context, Choppa’s attempt to distinguish his youthful baddie by taking a contrastingly restrained, dandified approach doesn’t really land. He seems more bratty than intimidating, so we keep waiting for a more seriously threatening personality to show up. (In the mode of tacitly “gay” genre villains of an earlier era, King David wears a sparkly jacket worthy of Prince and paints oil portraits when not slapping women around.) Still, “Heat” leads satisfactorily enough to a climax wherein Malik and this nemesis slug it out in the complex’s empty swimming pool — both shirtless, for no obvious reason beyond seizing an opportunity to show off their extensive tattoos. The faceoff may be somewhat cartoonish, like everything preceding, but it delivers sufficient payoff anyhow.
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