Empire

We need to talk about Empire.  But first, welcome to the 40^th blog post special, where we talk about Empire.  Because we need to.  It’s batshit.  It’s so crazy that I’ve actually stopped watching it, so I’m not sure how many series there are now.  No matter how many there are, it won’t be enough.  Please make more.  I’m not going to watch them though.  I can’t anymore.  If days were, on average, two hours longer, then I probably would.  Am I saying life’s too short for Empire?  Let’s read on and find out.

At the heart of Empire is the record label of Empire Records, founded by former criminal-turned-rapstar Lucious Lyon.  Played by a Terrence Howard who looks annoyed just to be there, the first series revolves around his impending death from a terminal disease and the associated conundrum of who should inherit his music empire.

There’s his wife, Cookie.  Nothing I write here can do her justice.  She’s played by the spectacular Taraji P. Henson with such abandon that you wonder the walls won’t come down in response to her undeniable sassiness.  Cookie has just emerged from 17 years in prison after taking a fall for her husband.  If that had happened to me, I wouldn’t be able to function following the institutionalisation, but she is draped in furs and tottering in heels within minutes, like the boss that she is.  She also doesn’t seem that cross with Lucious about it.  I mean, yeah, she’s livid, but only for a bit.  Two episodes later she’s trying to seduce him.

Then there are the Lyon sons.  There’s Jamal, the son that sings.  Another son raps; that’s Hakeem.  There’s surely no doubt that both only have their successful recording careers thanks to their dad, but that doesn’t really get investigated.  Instead, Hakeem tries to act the hard man while womanising to his heart’s content (which makes a scene where Cookie throws a broom at him as punishment all the more hilarious) and Jamal tries to earn his father’s respect, despite Lucious being iffy about his (mostly) homosexuality.  The latter gets a bit heavy-handed, so it’s best to focus on the silliness around Hakeem.  He also has a song called Drip Drop (lyrics: drip drop drip drippity drop), so if that doesn’t give you an idea of the show’s level, then there’s really no point carrying on.

Sadly, the eldest son, Andre, has no musical talent and instead runs the label’s accounts, which involves wearing lots of sharp suits and acting as a voice of reason, until a storyline about his mental health spirals out of control.  All of these, then, vie to inherit the Empire empire, which results in untold double-crossing within the family and beyond.  The fact there is more than one series should serve as a clue about what actually happens to the business.

Let’s be honest though, the biggest star is the music.  Thanks to Timbaland, most songs have the exact same beat, but I bloody love that beat so it doesn’t bother me.  The plot contrives to weave in multiple occasions per episode where the characters that are popstars perform to each other.  Jamal might be demoing something on the piano to Alicia Keys, and she might just join in.  Hakeem might be dropping his new joint at Leviticus, the club Lucious owns that serves as almost the only performance space.  Cookie might be overseeing a rehearsal that one of her family members needs to burst into with urgent news.  Luckily, most tracks are available on Spotify for me to relive these moments while on the 137 to Battersea Park.

Nevertheless, for the characters’ pop music careers to feel real, you’d need to hear the same songs hammered to death, just like real hits are on the radio.  But this would make the show unbearable, so each seems to be lost to posterity the moment it’s performed.  This is impressive, given they are all original songs.  These are my top three:

Never Let It Die

Jamal sings his heart out.  Things build and crescendo and then Hakeem rips in with some of his most aggressive rapping.  I am not fit to describe it so just listen here please.  It’s about the two brothers standing together against all the hardships in their lives, such as being given recording contracts by your father.

Chasing The Sky

This tear jerker shows that Empire can turn it all around and bring some real emotion to its music.  Just digging out this video has got me goose-bumping again.  It might be all hippity hop most of the time, but sometimes the cast put down the gold chains and get together as a family to harmonise about their problems.  We should all do this more.  Even Andre is allowed to nod along.

Adios

This track is sung by Tiana, one of Empire’s artists who comes and goes in the plot as suits, while the opening credits still roll.  The video (please excuse the Portuguese subtitles but we can all do with improving our lusophone abilities) shows exactly the scenario where choreography and dancers are all in place, only for the song never to be heard again.  Apart from in my earphones when I’m going round Clapham Sainsbury’s.  Another epic contribution from Tiana is Look But Don’t Touch, which features more award-winning lyrics: “Look at my body.  Look at my body.  Look at my body.  Look at my body.  Don’t I look sexy?  Don’t I look sexy?  Don’t I look sexy?  Don’t I look sexy?”  You don’t get that in The Get Down.

So, come for the music, stay for the plots.  But it’s the plots that I can’t be doing with.  I’ve mentioned the whiplash-inducing double-crossing.  All the forgiving and betraying again doesn’t really go anywhere.  My other bugbear is that each scene seems to get the most lavish set up: an excessive location, hundreds of outfits, extras etc.  But then the cast will only exchange a few lines before moving on to the next one.  I think I sometimes like to settle in and stay a while.  The jumping about creates a distance and it’s hard for any character to move beyond caricature in a fur coat.

We all know I love a trashy watch.  And why should a show be held back by pace, or story arc, or steadily building to a climax?  Why can’t it just be a hot mess of everything at once, as long as there’s some toe-tapping hip hop thrown in?  All I’m saying is that it absolutely can be.  I’m just not going to carry on watching it until I have more time on my hands.  I’ll be retired in 100 years so there’ll be loads to catch up on then.