Detroit 9000 Reviews

A blast from the Blaxploitation past, resurrected courtesy of Quentin Tarantino's Rolling Thunder Releasing. At the Hail Our Heroes Ball, a gala Detroit event honoring African-American achievement, Congressman Aubrey Hale Clayton (Rudy Challenger) spontaneously announces his plans to run for governor and asks for contributions. But the generous outpouring is snatched by a well-coordinated gang of thieves in ski masks and identical white coats. The heist quickly becomes a PR nightmare: Half Detroit believes it's part of a white conspiracy to keep African-Americans out of politics, the other half figures it's an inconsequential case of black-on-black crime. The men in the middle are detectives Danny Bassett (Alex Rocco) and Jesse Williams (Hari Rhodes). Bassett, who's white, is a middle-aged schlub who failed departmental politics 101 and is chained by his religious convictions to a loony wife in a state institution. Williams, who's black, is a college sports star turned mediagenic cop with a bright future. They work together reluctantly and discover that there's both more and less to the case than meets the eye. Sluggishly directed and hampered by some very clunky acting, the film does feature a better than average script and a surprisingly even-handed take on race relations in the '70s, when hyperbole was the name of the Blaxploitation game. The scene in which angry Detroiters make their unhappiness with the Detroit police force known via the radio call-in show "Buzz the Fuzz" is a hoot. The supporting cast includes Vonetta McGee as a college-educated call girl and Scatman Crothers as a venal man of the cloth. Herbert Jefferson Jr. models the pimp gear without which no Blaxploitation film is complete. "9000," by the way, is Detroit police code for "officer in trouble."