Post by Filip on Nov 23, 2005 12:51:43 GMT 1
A couple of weeks later, the Fugees are on a private beach in Malibu, Calif., for the second of three rigorous 16 hour-plus days to finish the video for "Ready or Not." A sequel to the gritty "Fu-gee-la" video, which found the dynamic trio fleeing jackbooted thugs in the streets and jungles of Jamaica, the new clip is a decidedly more Hollywood affair.
All afternoon, director Marcus Nispel drills them through a scene in which the three race vintage motorbikes along the coast as military helicopters trail them from behind. In reality, the cycles are strapped to a vibrating platform as a shirtless crew member revs a motorized smoke machine, but two real whirlybirds hovering directly above give the shoot a dose of genuine anxiety.
Between takes, the Fugees, cavorting with kids who saunter by the beach, teach them how to do backflips and then dole out autographs. The clip's budget will clock in at more than $1 million, an almost unheard of amount for a rap video.
"It's the next level," Michel says. "That's what we're respected for - we take chances other artists won't take. We can't just do regular things."
Still, many Fugees fans might wonder what these big-budget shenanigans have to do with the plain-spoken tales and small time characters that populate The Score.
"I don't believe in laws or rules," counters Michel, the one who insisted that the "Ready or Not" video include a scene in a submarine, filmed on a Universal Studios back lot. "I think whoever makes the law or the rule meant it to fit their needs. But see the thing is, about breaking rules and laws, is you have to be willing to deal with the consequences."
One of those consequences is that the Fugees have become the hip-hop act that never sleeps. With their rigorous touring schedule and a rabid commitment to their community - future Hoodshock dates and other Newark-based charity events are in the works - it's hard to imagine there's any time left for their personal lives.
If the Malibu beach shoot, where Hill's parents hover and gawk like tourists is any indication, life for the Fugees may well be standing still as they toil in the name of their good fortune.
"We used to be in the studio from the time after school or track practice till like 3 in the morning," says Hill. "Then I'd go home, go to sleep, wake up at 7 and go to school again. The only reason I have the capacity to do so much now is because I always did so much."
And the opportunities keep coming. The Fugees may be starring in a proposed sequel to the 1973 reggae movie classic The Harder They Come, an idea no doubt fostered by the remake of "No Woman, No Cry" on The Score and by Jean's striking resemblance to Jimmy Cliff.
Acting is no big stretch though. Hill performed marvelously against type as Rita Watson, the surly, rebellious Catholic schoolgirl in the otherwise perfunctory Sister Act 2. And as teenagers, Jean and Hill both appeared in Club 12, an off-Broadway hip-hop musical version of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night (Jean starred as Malvolio). One suspects this willingness to take on different roles makes the Fugees even more convincing when they're playing themselves.
They're the first to note that not all true hip-hop stories end with a bang and a body in the street. "We're just regular kids who are working really f**k**g hard and love to make music," Hill says. "We don't really party much, we're not out screwing the whole industry, we're not out taking drugs. ...Why would I talk about guns? When I talk about my weapon, I'm talking 'bout my toungue, because, realistically, that's the strongest weapon I have. And that's all we're trying to do: be realistic."
All afternoon, director Marcus Nispel drills them through a scene in which the three race vintage motorbikes along the coast as military helicopters trail them from behind. In reality, the cycles are strapped to a vibrating platform as a shirtless crew member revs a motorized smoke machine, but two real whirlybirds hovering directly above give the shoot a dose of genuine anxiety.
Between takes, the Fugees, cavorting with kids who saunter by the beach, teach them how to do backflips and then dole out autographs. The clip's budget will clock in at more than $1 million, an almost unheard of amount for a rap video.
"It's the next level," Michel says. "That's what we're respected for - we take chances other artists won't take. We can't just do regular things."
Still, many Fugees fans might wonder what these big-budget shenanigans have to do with the plain-spoken tales and small time characters that populate The Score.
"I don't believe in laws or rules," counters Michel, the one who insisted that the "Ready or Not" video include a scene in a submarine, filmed on a Universal Studios back lot. "I think whoever makes the law or the rule meant it to fit their needs. But see the thing is, about breaking rules and laws, is you have to be willing to deal with the consequences."
One of those consequences is that the Fugees have become the hip-hop act that never sleeps. With their rigorous touring schedule and a rabid commitment to their community - future Hoodshock dates and other Newark-based charity events are in the works - it's hard to imagine there's any time left for their personal lives.
If the Malibu beach shoot, where Hill's parents hover and gawk like tourists is any indication, life for the Fugees may well be standing still as they toil in the name of their good fortune.
"We used to be in the studio from the time after school or track practice till like 3 in the morning," says Hill. "Then I'd go home, go to sleep, wake up at 7 and go to school again. The only reason I have the capacity to do so much now is because I always did so much."
And the opportunities keep coming. The Fugees may be starring in a proposed sequel to the 1973 reggae movie classic The Harder They Come, an idea no doubt fostered by the remake of "No Woman, No Cry" on The Score and by Jean's striking resemblance to Jimmy Cliff.
Acting is no big stretch though. Hill performed marvelously against type as Rita Watson, the surly, rebellious Catholic schoolgirl in the otherwise perfunctory Sister Act 2. And as teenagers, Jean and Hill both appeared in Club 12, an off-Broadway hip-hop musical version of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night (Jean starred as Malvolio). One suspects this willingness to take on different roles makes the Fugees even more convincing when they're playing themselves.
They're the first to note that not all true hip-hop stories end with a bang and a body in the street. "We're just regular kids who are working really f**k**g hard and love to make music," Hill says. "We don't really party much, we're not out screwing the whole industry, we're not out taking drugs. ...Why would I talk about guns? When I talk about my weapon, I'm talking 'bout my toungue, because, realistically, that's the strongest weapon I have. And that's all we're trying to do: be realistic."
