Film Explores Hot Underground Hip-Hop Movement
Susan Treen, CTV News
LOS ANGELES — The crowd will tell you that it’s worth the wait. It’s a steamy Saturday night in Los Angeles, and hundreds of people are standing in line to secure a seat for this evening’s event.
Some of the fans are wearing multi-coloured clown wigs and face make-up, but this is no circus, it’s a new dance craze called krumping. A little girl standing in line with her friends explains: “It’s shaking your butt, moving your arms—it’s hip hopping.”
Every month, kids from some of L.A.’s roughest neighbourhoods take to the dance floor to unload aggression that might otherwise surface on the streets. Tonight’s event is billed as “The Battlezone.” Inside, the dance floor is elevated and ringed with rope. Krumping is a fight for dance supremacy, and the winner is awarded with respect.
Krumping is both boxing and break dancing, but on fast forward. Dancers throw improvised punches, kick out their legs to the beat, and ricochet off the floor. The rules are simple. Any two krumpers can face-off — some of the dancers are as young as five.
Challengers stand at opposite ends of the dance floor, while a D.J. spins heavy rap music. Each competitor gets a chance to wow the crowd, and the dancer who earns the most applause walks away a winner.
Backstage, dancers are rehearsing their moves as loud music pumps out of the P.A. system. Samurai, 18, is hoping to win tonight’s contest. “It’s fun, and then there’s the feeling that if we throw off the people that have been winning for six months, seven months, we are the champions.” Samurai sports a long black ponytail, and his face is covered with white and black grease paint.
All of the dancers wear make-up and baggy clothes; it’s a costume that stems from founder, Thomas Johnson. Mr. Johnson is better known as Tommy the Clown. Samurai explains how clowns are connected to krumping: “Clown dancing paved the way for krumping. Tommy started Clowning.”
Tommy the Clown will tell you that he used to be a drug dealer, but after serving time in prison, he decided to so something positive with his life. In 1992, the same year that 54 people died during L.A.’s Rodney King riots, Tommy gave birth to Tommy the Clown. He crafted a costume, and started renting himself out to children’s birthday parties in South Central Los Angeles. Each party was fueled by hip-hop music, energetic dance moves, and Tommy’s fun loving personality. “I tell people don’t fight, come to The Battlezone and dance it out,” he says. Tommy’s clown dancing evolved into krumping, and slowly he developed a following all over the world
Now Tommy the Clown is the star of a new film about krumping called Rize. The documentary, by celebrity art photographer David LaChapelle, has already earned over $3 million US in the United States and hits Canadian theaters August 5th. Tommy couldn’t be happier. “This wouldn’t be where it is today without kids.”
Back at the Battlezone, Tommy the Clown is on stage working the crowd. He calls up Samurai, and the crowd cheers loudly. Samurai climbs over the ropes and looks at his competitor on the opposite side the ring. The crowd is going wild as the D.J. spins the first track. Samurai starts smooth, working his arms and legs to the beat. After a minute, Tommy blows a whistle signaling to Samurai that his time is up. The D.J. flips songs, and Samurai’s competitor steps toward the centre of the ring. The crowd cheers, as he fingers the trigger of an imaginary gun. His feet move fast, but amazingly he maintains control.
There’s no argument that this guy is a better dancer. Tommy the Clown asks the crowd to cheer for their favourite. A decibel meter registers a clear favourite, and it’s not Samurai. The competitor celebrates victory with more dancing, and Samurai shakes his hand. Better luck next month.
Source: ctv.ca




