‘Highest 2 Lowest’ Review – Spike Lee’s Exhilarating Art Of Not Giving a F*ck

What does it mean and look like to not give a fuck?

It’s probably helpful to define that. In less vulgar (and less interesting) terms, it means manifesting what you believe to be right, everyone else be damned. There are inherent and even destructive risks with this mode of thinking. (A lack of accountability and adherence to basic cultural norms, like respect and decency, has warped the American sociopolitical landscape.) In its best case, giving no fucks can carry an atmosphere of freedom, as one no longer feels beholden to suffocating structures. In the case of film, which is often shaped by potentially stifling conventions for the sake of cultural acknowledgement and financial stability, not giving a fuck offers the chance to achieve a fully-formed artistic vision, studio executives and fickle audiences be damned.

The art of not giving a fuck is painted all over Highest 2 Lowest, filmmaker Spike Lee’s latest joint, reuniting him after 19 years with his greatest cinematic muse, Denzel Washington. Washington plays David King, the high-powered CEO of a legendary but struggling record label. The label is in the midst of acquisition talks with another larger conglomerate. While he was initially receptive, David decides instead to reclaim control of the label and, ultimately, his place at the top of the music industry. His plans are upended when his son’s friend is mistakenly kidnapped and the kidnapper demands $17 million as a ransom. He initially hesitates, as the ransom would effectively wipe out his purchase of his label, but he relents, leading him on a rat race through the streets of New York to deliver the ransom and find the person who dared to threaten his second act.

One of the first ways Spike Lee doesn’t seem to give a fuck is in setting an easy tone. The film begins as you would expect most serious dramas or thrillers. We see David suggest to his wife Pam (a coolly luminous Ilfenesh Hadera) that their finances aren’t as liquid as she thought. We meet their son, Trey (Aubrey Joseph), with whom David has at least a testy relationship. When we get to the record label headquarters, we’re treated to David’s philosophy on Black music and how easily it can be scrubbed clean if absorbed by a nondescript distributor. Lee lays out all the makings of a high-concept thriller built around the decades-long battle between art and commerce. It’s very compelling.

Once the kidnapping takes place, a strange air of absurdity fills the frame. Despite a high-powered New York businessman being involved, you sense that no one, including Lee, is taking this crime seriously. The trio of cops (LaChanze, Dean Winters, and John Douglas Thompson) make strange comments throughout the interrogations, and even joke amongst themselves. The acting rhythms lean towards artifice rather than intense drama. It’s as if this supposedly high-concept thriller has suddenly switched into a high-camp melodrama. It’s jarring, until it isn’t. 

Roughly 20 minutes into Highest 2 Lowest, it becomes clear that the shift is deliberate. Even with its initial self-seriousness, the film is aware of the blissfully ridiculous melodrama of a music mogul’s son getting kidnapped off the street, only for it to actually be his best friend. Everyone is aligned with its absurdity: Lee, screenwriter Alan Fox, and the cast. Lee does hint at it before: the McFadden & Whitehead “Ain’t No Stopping Us Now” needle drop during David’s trip toward the office, Rick Fox serving as Trey’s basketball coach, or brash and sassy rapper Ice Spice playing a relatively modest aspiring artist. However, Lee isn’t especially concerned with drawing the connections for the audience. The ones that get it, get it, and the ones that don’t, don’t. He doesn’t waste time handholding, trusting audiences to catch on to his metatextual game, even amidst a wholly serious crime.

Granted, it can be alienating for some and makes for some 20 minutes of tonal whiplash. The reward for meeting Lee’s fucklessness is the rest of the film being an absolute riot. He has a blast with David’s ransom delivery, throwing everything a New Yorker might encounter on the subway at him all at once. How likely is it that a sting operation will happen simultaneously as a Puerto Rican parade in the Bronx headlined by Rosie Perez and the late Eddie Palmieri, and a Yankees-Red Sox game? It’s possible, but that’s beside the point. The point is the sequence’s relentless but exhilarating chaos, perfectly encapsulating the joy of tossing logic out the window of a speedy subway car for the sake of unabashed entertainment.

That isn’t to say that Highest 2 Lowest is without a guiding narrative or thematic ethos. To the contrary, the film is Lee’s meditations on legacy and relevance: David’s and his own. David’s subway surfing journey reignited his dimmed creative spark, which he had hoped to reclaim by purchasing his label. When David and his friend Paul (Jeffrey Wright) travel to confront kidnapper Yung Felon (A$AP Rocky), James Brown’s “The Payback” soundtracks the scene, signalling that David is back in charge after being figuratively held hostage. Lee frames David and Yung Felon’s impromptu rap battle in a dark recording studio as an elder statesman reinvigorated by a young challenger, rather than an old man run ragged by a humiliating cat-and-mouse game. For David, youth may be fleeting, but instinct and passion are eternal, and often in opposition to the “get rich at all costs” philosophy that shapes modern art. 

As for Lee, Highest 2 Lowest is his insistence of his own vitality. The film finds the filmmaker unafraid of the messiness that can come with directorial risks. He’s willing to toy with his signature flourishes, like the double dolly shot and his still-frame transitions, to find new ways into his story. He will mish-mash tones, dedicate two scenes to Yankees fans chanting “Boston sucks,” and cut between a vibrant salsa orchestra performing and Denzel Washington nearly falling between two subway cars. (He repeats Denzel versus the 4 train later in the film.) Even the film’s surprisingly peaceful coda finds Lee toying with his narrative sensibilities with the same keen eye as She’s Gotta Have It and Do the Right Thing. The ebullience emanating from Lee’s direction is remarkable; few directors reach that level in their imperial eras, let alone in their fifth decade of filmmaking.

Given that, it’s only right that Lee tapped Denzel Washington to play his narrative avatar. Washington has been on a remarkable run, turning in performances in Gladiator II and The Tragedy of Macbeth that reinforce the ferocity of his screen presence. In Highest 2 Lowest, he goes even further in that work, making fascinating, daring choices in every scene. Even choices that shouldn’t work, like David pressing his forehead into Trey’s as an intimidation tactic, do because Washington is that compelling, and benefits from the trust that he and Lee have developed over 40-plus years. 

According to Lee and Highest 2 Lowest, not giving a fuck ultimately circles back to giving a fuck, but with a different aim. Not that Lee was bound by convention before, but he feels especially free from it now. After half a century as one of our most important filmmakers, you sense that he is embracing his unassailable cultural status while still rewriting his capabilities. He’s also inviting friends old and new on this late-stage journey, including one of our most important actors dedicated to the same effort. Whether audiences are invited, on the other hand, is ultimately up to them. Lee seems at peace with some people not getting it or not trying to get it. (This may also explain why he accepted Apple’s strictly limited theatrical window). He will be fine wherever people watch the film or how they critique it. 

In other words, Spike Lee doesn’t give a fuck, and he’s earned that freedom.

Highest 2 Lowest is currently playing in select theaters courtesy of A24. The film will premiere on Apple TV+ on September 5th.