Our heroic trio behave as if they were much younger, embodying, perhaps, the creators’ past selves of 2009. The filmmakers’ careful set design feeds the celebratory and melancholic milieu depicted. They shoot the movie theater chain as a sacred space, its halls a place to play, its back corridors and empty screening rooms a wonderful mystery, even for those who must clean up the mess once the patrons leave. And then there is the technology. All of the film is shot on a digital video camcorder. A Samsung cell phone equipped with that very cool feature of a sliding keyboard connects the boys to the others they will encounter throughout the night. Televisions with built-in VCRs and portable DVD players compete for their attention. And, of course, they play the Nintendo Wii, that gaming system full of false promises and hope, a perfect symbol for the outset of the Obama years.
Rap World taps into a geographic nostalgia too. The group of white dudes prowls the suburbs, proud (in their own way) to be “lifers” in town, yet at the same time grasping for more. The film deftly finds the comedic absurdity in this reality without condescension, or fetishizing in a way that sanitizes the similar real world(s) with which they are, clearly, intimately familiar. There is fun and beauty in their palpable sense of place. As O’Malley’s character says, some of the greatest moments of their lives are spent in parking lots.
To the eye watching solely for pleasure, Rap World masks the labor of its own production. As the creators revealed in a post-screening Q&A, the 56-minute film was cut together from 70 hours of footage by Bensinger, also the film’s editor. The joy that comes with a film like Rap World is to watch a work that is good but also “bad.” It is an authentically poorly-shot and edited film, made by fictional dudes without a clue and actual ones who know what they’re doing.
Dramatically, the arc of the film so finely captures the joys and complexities of male friendship. The night begins with an overflow of excitement and anticipation. Then ensues the obligatory catch-up, where things get real. A rebound comes in the form of pranks, fast food, and testosterone. Alcohol, weed, and video games follow. This fun leads the trio to briefly ditch their plans and refuel at the grocery store, before heeding the siren’s call to attend a party, a decision that sends their night through detours that bring them back to reality. As time marches on, things only get realer. They grow more comfortable, surviving the night together. Finally, they get back on track: the budding rap album is back on.
At the post-screening Q&A, the filmmakers seemed reluctant to label their work, even hesitant to call it a film. Of course it is. Rap World so clearly recalls the best of the underground movie tradition. Filmmakers like the Kuchar brothers come to mind. The movie has a distinct visual style, resonant of the collaborators’ past works, including those found on O’Malley’s popular YouTube channel. It is on that platform Rap World will probably live. And it makes sense, for it is where the fictional creators depicted would have most likely placed their opus. Over 15 years, it would have garnered perhaps a few dozen views, a couple likes, and maybe even a comment. The dudes would pull it up less and less as time passed. But it would remain there, just as beautiful.
Will DiGravio is a Brooklyn-based critic and researcher, who first contributed to Paste in 2022. He is an assistant editor at Cineaste, a GALECA member, and since 2019 has hosted The Video Essay Podcast. You can follow and/or unfollow him on Twitter and learn more about him via his website.