Notorious (2009)

The two major music legend biopics of recent years were rightly skewered by Dewey Cox for laboring and laboring under the tired Behind the Music formula. There's more than one mold into which you can cast a person's life (even the life of a recording artist). The Biggie Smalls picture is engrossing because even though we know how it ends, and even though Biggie famously seemed to presage an imminent demise, the events of his life do not tidily arc toward that doom. He was not a man undone by vice, nor was he trapped in the familiar gears of poverty-violence. Basically he lead a blessed life, loved and protected by everyone in the extended family he gathered around him, and he was gifted with a talent and generous nature that enriched those lives. He philandered and we sense he would have tried to be better had he not suddenly been murdered.

The picture gracefully sets the record straight, portraying a nonexistent feud sparked by misunderstanding and fanned by secondary parties that perceive advantage in chaos. (Here, the media in general and the vilified Suge Knight in particular.) No one seems more bewildered by the escalation than Biggie.

The role of Tupac is managed well: Regarded by Biggie with great esteem and perhaps secret awe, there is deep regret and lingering confusion but no hint of malice. Tupac himself is depicted as an enigmatic Mercutio, brilliantly charismatic, cursing Biggie after a perceived betrayal and remaining woefully opaque to the end.

Indeed the sensitive, sympathetic treatment of Tupac, Lil' Kim, Faith Evans and the other supporting players is the film's strongest suit. Biggie did hurt people along his way — especially women — and a keen awareness of their pain prevents this loving tribute from foundering on sentimentality.