Critics reviews

Throw in the street-smart details of the script by Williams, Nas, and Anthony Bodden (Sincere notes he lives "not too far from where we grew up, right by the Vets' hospital," a tossed-off reference that situates the movie in a real, known New York), the touches of unexpected humor (DMX grunt-singing in the shower!), and you have the a taste of Belly, a film that, taken altogether, comes much closer to what Korine called "a pop poem" than does his own sniggery Spring Breakers.

Whether or not something is "good" or "bad" matters less and less to me, especially performances, because every film is a documentary of some kind, and in this film in particular it's fascinating to watch the levels of artifice overlay towards pure plasticity, pure metaphysics, where asking it to do anything "real" is useless.

Williams parallels Goodfellas and Scarface; his neo-realistic view on the belly—the supple, round source of life—is circular in its meaning and execution. Entertaining his audience up to the last second, Williams strikingly extends his music video oeuvre into a new world of urban noir.

Part incomprehensible GoodFellas rip-off and part feature-length music video, Belly is a millennial head film that subscribes to the sort of logic usually found only in acid trips, nightmares, and big-budget music videos.

The lesson to be learned here is that movies are far more complex than music videos. Most videos require little or no thought of plot, structure or characterisation, but look great. Which is probably why Williams is so good at them.

Video director Hype Williams' directorial debut shows that he knows a lot about flash and much less about narrative.

"Belly" is a film that begs for a pat on the head for its virtue while catering to cinematic tastes more interested in crotch shots, topless dancers, wall-sized television screens, ganja galore and, wherever possible, crime without punishment, all to the accompaniment of a high-octane soundtrack.

The heart of the picture has to do with the heroes realizing the error of their ways and finding redemption, but it takes a lot for an audience to forgive two murderers. "Belly" comes up short.

The film is never boring — there’s no question that filmmaker Hype Williams has the fancy moves — but the rhythmic, stylistic repetition becomes tedious, and serves to keep the audience removed from the story.

Williams doesn't quite have the art of feature-film storytelling down: Sin's voice-over is distracting and almost entirely unnecessary, and it seems clear that Williams never met a visual gimmick he didn't like... But Belly (the title seems to allude to the belly of the beast) has a visceral power that's actually serving a message: It seems an ironic shame that the film was banned from the Magic Johnson Theatres chain when it actually disdains gangbanging in favor of spiritual enlightenment.

It's not the convoluted yet obvious plot of this 1998 drama about the domestic lives and criminal careers of two childhood friends (DMX and Nas) that draws you in—it's the splendid visuals. Set mainly in New York City and Omaha, where these drug dealers do business according to their different ambitions, the movie is an image opera that deftly turns visual gimmicks into potent symbols.