The feather stuck in Goldie’s (Max Julien) hat might not make him Yankee Doodle Dandy, but nonetheless his big, flashy and colourful attire changed the face of pimping forever. Political correctness be damned with Michael Campus’ The Mack, because back in the early ‘70s blaxploitation was where it was at.
Not only is he the slickest dresser on the Chicago block, Goldie is also the sharpest and most suave of all the pimps. Sex runs off his sleeve, but he won’t tell you outright. He lets the boys and girls come to him. He doesn’t make them beg, but he likes being affirmed and reaffirmed. Fresh from jail, Goldie takes a sincere approach to macking the ladies and in turns establishes himself as the major player in the Windy City’s pimping scene. But when you’re at the top, you’ve got people aiming to take you down. The police, competition, wannabes – they all aspire to be the stuff and are willing to do whatever it takes to get there.
No matter how you look at it, The Mack is a bleak film. The only thing providing contrast to the dark sets is the fluorescent clothing of Goldie’s wardrobe. The events and themes also reflect this. For instance, take Goldie. On the outside, you’d think with his coy smile and puffy clothes he’s the happiest guy on the planet. Even when you hear him exchange pleasantries with his friends and neighbours, Goldie is all happy. But when you look at who and what he surrounds himself with, and his true motivations, Goldie is a sad, sad man. He’s an idealist who wants to keep business as business and everything else that goes along with it out of the public’s eye. But when you bring drugs, violence and other underworld dealings into the equation, it’s impossible to keep the two separate.
Alongside Richard Roundtree’s John Shaft, Julien’s Goldie is one of the defining characters of the blaxploitation genre. Although the clothes go a long way in making Goldie memorable, Julien’s demeanour is equally powerful. His delivery is a smooth whisper, amped up when need be, toned down when the time is right. He says all the right things, even when the situation is wrong. As ridiculous as it might seem, Goldie is a disillusioned idealist who saw the pimping scene in a utopian light. For almost two hours, Julien makes you believe in Goldie’s dream – a tough feat with viewers like me, considering my background as a pretty conservative, middle-class, white fella’.
I did have trouble with the mixed messages The Mack tries to convey. It’s likely my removal from the genre as I’m not only the wrong demographic; I’m also from a different era. But I see on the one hand a rather racist film filled with stereotypes and narrow attitudes, while on the other hand, Goldie maintains that a sense of empowerment and justice, however skewed, is served. A good argument for both stances could be made, but watching this film today, the blended themes are awkward and unnerving and bring back thoughts of how far we still have to go in terms of equality for everyone.
So it depends on how you want to approach The Mack. From a purely entertainment view, it isn’t at all bad. Strong dialogue and a memorable lead character make for good viewing. But with its vocal and bleak outlook on society, it’s hard not to mix politics with the entertainment. And that’s where The Mack falters.
