FRIDAY (1995)

When Craig Jones (Ice Cube) spends his morning being scolded by his parents for being out of work (and for managing to get sacked on his day off), one would think that this day-in-the-life film would be dedicated to his efforts to find gainful employment and earn his right to see himself as the hero of this story. Thankfully, Friday takes a very different route, exploring one very aimless day in Craig’s life, which nonetheless is filled with colourful characters and comic misadventures.

Craig is a quintessential everyman. He grumbles and mutters in protest at his parents’ demands and expectations, but when pressed on the matter will merely resort to pulling a sour face and pretending as if nothing happened. (Speaking of which, Friday contains some of the best comic acting using facial expressions alone that I’ve had the pleasure of witnessing. Ice Cube regularly looks disgusted, nonplussed, offended and begruntled, and every single instance of these frustrated facial expressions is hilarious. This is a talent shared amongst the rest of this cast, who can sell expressions of fear, a highly judgemental side-eye, and a menacing look with ease. Much of the film’s mixed critical appraisal upon its release stemmed from it being considered visually unappealing, but these actors’ physical expressiveness is so pronounced that Friday would still contain funny moments even with the sound on mute.)

Craig might not be a hero to look up to, but his shortcomings and aimlessness are relatable all the same. The lack of structure or routine in his life is weighing him down, even if that’s not something he feels the need to change. Ice Cube presents this character as surprisingly well-rounded. Craig’s naturally downtrodden nature doesn’t necessarily cause him to sink into despair, but it does inform his slumped shoulders, trudging footsteps, and constant frustration (though, in fairness, if I filled up an industrial-sized bowl full of cereal only to realise there was barely any milk left in the house, I’d be angry too).

Compared to his best friend Smokey (Chris Tucker), Craig is an extraordinary success. Smokey’s aspirations begin and end with selling weed and smoking it, and not in that order of importance, leading to some major trouble with his supplier, Big Worm (Faizon Love). Though Smokey is too invested in his love of Mary Jane to reckon with the ultimatum laid out for him—repaying Worm the $200 he’s owed by 10:00 PM that day—Craig is all too aware of the ramifications of this debt, seeing as how he’s been indicted in this fiasco also, all for happening to be seated next to Smokey before Big Worm noticed the pair smoking his supply.

Friday is spot on at capturing the uncomfortable feeling of being too high, and that odd mix between hyper-awareness and total lack of awareness that can paralyse someone unused to this experience. Just as Craig is daft enough—in an understandable way—to ask Smokey if he can hear Craig’s heartbeat, which seems to be pounding so loudly that the sound is reverberating all around him, he is completely oblivious to his strange behaviour around Debbie (Nia Long), the woman he’s enamoured with. Debbie is put-together and has big dreams, carrying with her a sense of class and decorum that’s scarcely found in this fictional neighbourhood, whose general population can be best summed up using descriptors like ‘colourful’ and ‘eccentric’.

Then there are the downright menacing figures in this ensemble, like Deebo (Tommy Lister Jr.), the neighbourhood villain, who can borrow your bike for a few weeks and knock you sideways for daring to ask for it back, then go on to unceremoniously rob you the next time you cross paths. Smokey might be an idiot, but even he is wise enough to hide his jewellery whenever Deebo shows up. Aside from being very funny, Deebo’s presence is an effective way for this film to address the need to remain vigilant and street smart in these characters’ stressful day-to-day environment, without bogging down this story with melodrama.

That ethos was the starting point behind what became Friday, as screenwriters Ice Cube and DJ Pooh sought to portray a light-hearted element to life in neighbourhoods like these. One can only assume that the influence of John Singleton’s Boyz n the Hood (1991), another classic of 1990s cinema that stars Ice Cube in one of the leading roles, loomed large. A work of art’s rich cultural legacy can prove to be a burden, with Ice Cube seeking to inject some fun into films set in the kind of environment that he grew up in. That’s why so much of the film is autobiographical; Smokey’s character was inspired by DJ Pooh’s stint as a drug dealer, while Craig’s sacking came from Ice Cube’s cousin facing something similar with a UPS job.

By all rights, this film shouldn’t exist. This was just the third screenplay that Ice Cube had written, and the first one to enter production. As well as being DJ Pooh’s first foray into writing for film, this was also his first acting credit. His role as Red, the black-eyed and seemingly eternal victim of Deebo, is one of the film’s best (until you realise that this could be said about at least half a dozen characters in this ensemble). Red’s pronounced fear in Deebo’s presence is as delightful to watch as this square-faced villain’s stony demeanour.

Self-financing was considered for Friday, as well as shooting the film in black and white to cut costs. It was the feature directorial debut of F. Gary Gray, who was sought out by Ice Cube after directing iconic music videos (including Cube’s own “It Was a Good Day” and Outkast’s “Ms. Jackson”). Gray would go on to direct films in some of modern cinema’s most popular franchises, including Men in Black and The Fast and Furious, while Friday easily out-earned its low budget and transcended its middling contemporaneous reviews with a thriving legacy. The buddy comedy has gone on to become a generation-defining work, but its best accomplishment can be found in exactly what enticed Ice Cube to make it, as he sought to write a film with endless replayability.

Although this undoubtedly comes down to its limited budget, at first it’s difficult not to get the sense that a wider perspective would have benefited Friday greatly, whether that’s another quest for these characters to embark on, or a madcap action scene that truly plunges them into the deep end. But to widen this world would take us away from its origins, which are so dear to the film’s heart that it would do it an injustice to stray from them. Friday has a warmth to it that its detractors failed to appreciate, focusing only on the silliness of its humour and being unable to recognise that it has so much love for these characters, regardless of whether they’re heroes, victims, or villains. Some of them are deadbeats with seemingly no redeeming qualities, and yet even they are still worth caring about. You get the sense that this neighbourhood is truly alive; it transcends being a mere collection of individuals, operating instead as a living entity that couldn’t exist without each of their co-operation. That co-operation also contains a hefty dose of antagonism, but life in this neighbourhood would feel hollow without these moments of conflict.

Take Smokey as an example. He contributes nothing to the world and is a prime instigator, what with his aggravating laugh and ability to get Craig in trouble without even trying to. What also remains firmly fixed in position is how truly annoying this character is, but in the best of ways, where you can laugh at a remote distance at his antics, while also recognising that he would be headache-inducing to have as a friend. Tucker knows exactly how to play into this without turning the character into a one-note joke; there’s something oddly believable about Smokey’s wackiness even when it overtakes the film at points, his large personality dwarfing some of the other cast members’ roles.

Almost all of these characters should despise each other, and yet, knowing they’re all stuck with one another, there’s a begrudging acceptance at play that’s oddly endearing. Friday invites you to sit with these characters and simply hang out, even when death lurks around the corner for the pair and ominous forces—like Deebo—threaten to jump out of the woodwork and bring trouble with them. Most of these characters give Craig grief one way or another, just as his presence in their lives is more often an imposition than a joyous occurrence, but that’s the beauty of it.

This world is so lived-in, and these characters so resigned to it, that they’ve accepted their lot in life. This is a world of great surprises, but plenty of familiarity, too; when these characters walk up to someone they’ve known their whole lives, one imagines that they can almost certainly predict what the other person will say, or what facial expression they will make. This is an outlook that can be viewed through the lens of joy or tragedy. Look a little closer, and both will be there in equal turn. That’s the beauty of life, glimmering under the surface of a raucous comedy that can be enjoyed again and again. But, crucially, there’s always the opportunity for heroism, for that shining moment of glory, realised perfectly in Friday‘s ending. There can be found the beauty of storytelling.

Friday may initially appear too humble for its own good, with an unassuming plot that maps onto its main duo’s aimlessness. But its modest beginnings and commitment to its roots aren’t just what make the film a timeless classic, they are also the qualities that reveal its heart, which, like Craig’s when he gets too high, beats loudly and triumphantly.

USA | 1995 | 91 MINUTES | 1.85:1 | COLOUR | ENGLISH

Cast & Crew

director: F. Gary Gray.
writers: Ice Cube & DJ Pooh.
starring: Ice Cube, Chris Tucker, Nia Long, Faizon Love, Tiny “Zeus” Lister Jr., Regina King, Paula Jai Parker, Bernie Mac, John Witherspoon, Anna Maria Horsford & DJ Pooh.