#johnsingleton

[tyronetonyreed]

🎬 “Either they don’t know, don’t show, or don’t care about what’s going on in the hood.” — Doughboy

On this #TonysTimelessThursdays, we revisit Boyz n the Hood — a film that didn’t just show life in South Central, it challenged America to care. Written and directed by John Singleton, this story remains heartbreakingly relevant in light of the recent May 7, 2025 verdict involving former Memphis police officers.

This post reflects on its legacy, why it still matters, and how art like this continues to speak when systems fall silent.

🖤 Read and reflect: https://wix.to/OMpBbVp

#BoyzNTheHood #JohnSingleton #TonysTimelessThursdays #BlackLivesMatter #Justice #CinematicLegacy #UrbanAmerica #MemphisVerdict #BlackVoicesMatter #FuriousStyles

[cartermagazine]

Today In History John Singleton was a renowned screenwriter and director born in Los Angeles, California on January 6, 1968. His 1991 feature film debut, Boyz n the Hood, garnered an Academy Award nomination for Best Director and Best Original Screenplay. Singleton followed with Poetic Justice in 1993 and Higher Learning in 1995. Subsequent works include 1997’s Rosewood, 2000’s Shaft remake, 2001’s Baby Boy and 2003’s 2 Fast 2 Furious. In 2005, he produced Hustle & Flow and directed Four Brothers. John’s last creation Snowfall is an American crime drama television series set in Los Angeles, California in 1983. CARTER™️ Magazine carter-mag.com #wherehistoryandhiphopmeet #historyandhiphop365 #cartermagazine #carter #johnsingleton #blackhistorymonth #blackhistory #history #staywoke https://www.instagram.com/p/CnEnQy0O2ye/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[theculturedone]

Poetic Justice, 1993.’

[boogietitia]

[ciarameghan]

“Love is a juice with many tastes. Some bitter, others sweet. A wine which has few vineyards.” #poeticjustice #nevergetsold #tupac #janetjackson #thosesmiles #myheart #pitterpatter #johnsingleton #90smovies #fave #comehere #iwannawhispersomethingtoyou https://www.instagram.com/p/CCsC8PqALaK/?igshid=1fd72g2m3zm1r

[innervisionfilms]

Saturday afternoon #movie of the day. #BoyzNDaHood #classic powerful film dir. by #JohnSingleton 🙏🏾 Had to revisit this film. I’ll never forget the impact it left on me as a young black man. #increasethepeace ✊🏾 “Either they don’t know, don’t sho’, or don’t care about what’s going on in da hood” - Doughboy https://www.instagram.com/p/B_a1IkLJqze/?igshid=5a9jznoddy6t

[scholarshit]

John Singleton Tribute (pt.1)

GUNS & BUTTER: a Portrait of Melvin

This week we lost acclaimed director and filmmaker John Singleton. Known for classic films like Boyz N The Hood, Poetic Justice, Baby Boy, Higher Learning, Rosewood and many more. Reflecting on his dynamic body of work, I realized just how much of my own perspective of the world has been directly influenced and shaped by his stories, his portraits of Black masculinity. Never flat, his Black male characters were always nuanced and complicated. For the next couple days, I’m highlighting a few of those portraits in tribute to this great story-teller.

Perhaps my most favorite John Singleton character is Melvin from the 2001 film Baby Boy. So much can be said about Baby Boy, it is a story with many, many layers. The focus is typically on Jody (Tyrese Gibson), the 20-year-old titular character that refuses to man up to his responsibilities. But aside from the shocking scene of a naked Melvin (Ving Rhames) scrambling eggs in the kitchen, not too much has been said about this particular character; a reformed thug whose experience and tough love helps push Jody along. Many of the characters in Baby Boy are exaggerated, plot-devices used to advance the narrative arch of Jody’s saga. Melvin, however, is a different story.

Melvin is much more than a plot-device. In fact, he represents a really powerful Black male presence rarely depicted. Melvin’s story is complicated. He’s not a dedicated father like Furious Styles (Boyz N The Hood). He’s not a teacher like Professor Maurice Phipps (Higher Learning). Melvin is not a role model. He’s a low life, a killer, a thug, a gang banger, but he is also someone who figured out his way in the world. Melvin has found comfort in his imperfections, a lesson he tries to impart on Jody. In the end, you understand that Jody didn't need a “role model” he needed a Melvin. A man, like him, with flaws and mistakes. A man who doesn’t project perfection or even pretend to have it all together. A man who has dealt with some shit and came out on the other side. 

This character, Melvin, this portrait of Black masculinity is complex. And it is in this complexity that his presence is most compelling because, in the end, his realness is undeniable. Every Black man has a Melvin or at least knows a Melvin. Melvin might be your dad, or an uncle, a friend, a just a random crackhead in our hood. These Melvins are essential in helping us find our way in the world. A world that is full of shit and tragedy and imperfection. It isn’t pretty and it never really quite gets there, and that’s “the real”!

My Melvin was an uncle who spent much of my childhood between stints in prison, homeless, or hooked on drugs and booze. When he was sober, he always had jokes and was kind and friendly. But he couldn’t shake his addictions to drugs and alcohol and over the years his presence (albeit infrequent) swung from simply repulsive to downright embarrassing. The summer I left home to go away to college, he invited me to make some extra money by coming to work with him. At the time he was a laborer fixing potholes and repairing sidewalks, etc. My very first day, I lasted all of 30 minutes on the job and was sent home after passing out from heat exhaustion! When my uncle came home that night, he passed me $100 bucks and informed me that the foreman said I was not to come back. He then looked me in the eye and said “I knew you weren't going to cut it out there. But I took you out there for a reason. I already ruined my life, I don’t have any options but this kind of work. But you, you have a bright future in front of you. You’re the kind of person that needs to be in an air-conditioned room with your feet under a desk. So when you go off to college, remember, if you fuck up this is all you’ll be left with.”

So as I sit in my air-conditioned office, feet under my desk, I give thanks for the Melvins out there, the unsung heroes that help raise up Black baby boys into Black men.

[bootiesbooksandtheblues]

BOYZ N THE HOOD...released 28 years ago today. #JohnSingleton #beautifulisBLACK https://www.instagram.com/p/Bz0OLLSnKWH/?igshid=1decp1duedwqj

[cartermagazine]

Today In History John Singleton was a renowned screenwriter and director born in Los Angeles, California on January 6, 1968. His 1991 feature film debut, Boyz n the Hood, garnered an Academy Award nomination for Best Director and Best Original Screenplay. Singleton followed with Poetic Justice in 1993 and Higher Learning in 1995. Subsequent works include 1997's Rosewood, 2000's Shaft remake, 2001's Baby Boy and 2003’s 2 Fast 2 Furious. In 2005, he produced Hustle & Flow and directed Four Brothers. John’s last creation Snowfall is an American crime drama television series set in Los Angeles, California in 1983. CARTER™️ Magazine carter-mag.com #wherehistoryandhiphopmeet #historyandhiphop365 #cartermagazine #carter #johnsingleton #blackhistorymonth #blackhistory #history #staywoke https://www.instagram.com/p/CYY23PKrk-d/?utm_medium=tumblr

[lskye29]

We celebrate you always! #johnsingleton #nipseyhussleforever #johnwitherspoon (at Atlanta, Georgia) https://www.instagram.com/p/B4aLKeKHCF6/?igshid=136z155dqj2t3

[blckvnyl]

Thank you, Mr. Singleton. May you rest in enternal peace.

[boogietitia]

[respectthewest]

Them Boyz N The Hood is always hard... 28 years ago the soundtrack to one of the most classic films dropped!

[twotrey23]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Michael Dequina (@twotrey23)

repost via @snowfallfx : "Trailblazer. Artist. Mentor. Friend. Remembering the legend, #JohnSingleton @johnsingleton ." #Snowfall #SnowfallFX #tv #television #filmmaker #filmmaking #writer #director #producer #film #cinema #movie🎬 #movies #films (at South Central LA) https://www.instagram.com/p/By3yKDKlKu_/?igshid=1l5t6vn51vu27

[neiltaffe]

R.I.P. John Singleton. Thank you for being a mighty force in black culture. #johnsingleton #boyznthehood #poeticjustice #higherlearning (at North Hollywood, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bw494PClPXj/?igshid=1jddkpqr1epn4

[scholarshit]

John Singleton Tribute (pt.3) What’s In YOUR Heart: a Portrait of Lucky (Poetic Justice)

This week we lost acclaimed director and filmmaker John Singleton. Known for classic films like Boyz N The Hood, Poetic Justice, Baby Boy, Higher Learning, Rosewood and many more. Reflecting on his dynamic body of work, I realized just how much of my own perspective of the world has been directly influenced and shaped by his stories, his portraits of Black masculinity. Never flat, his Black male characters were always nuanced and complicated. For the next couple days, I’m highlighting a few of those portraits in tribute to this great story-teller.

Full disclosure, I never saw Poetic Justice, well, not before this morning that is. It’s not my favorite Singleton movie. Honestly, I abandoned my endeavor at least twice as the pace of the film was arduous and the story a bit heavy-handed throughout. But I made it through and I’m glad I did. Poetic Justice centers on a young woman name Justice (Janet Jackson) who is reeling from the trauma of witnessing the killing of her first love. When she meets Lucky (Tupac Shakur) she’s cold and bitter, his dirty fingernails and his cocky approach doesn’t help the situation very much. However, forced together on a road trip between L.A. and Oakland something eventually begins to shake loose.

Lucky, like most of Singleton’s characters, is anything but one-dimensional. But what captured my attention is the fact that for much of the film, Lucky attempts a kind of one-dimensionalism. Like many young Black men, he hides behind a mask of virility and deference, feigning indifference and disconnect. He twists his postal uniform cap to the back while delivering mail, sips 40s from a paper bag as he chops it up with a car full of gang bangers, and refers to women as ‘bitches and hos’ with nearly every other word. Yet his character (as his mother acknowledges) has an ‘honest job’. He is a doting and dutiful father, even going as far as to rescue his daughter from her basehead mother. He also has ambition and vision. At one point he lashes out at his quasi-homie Chicago (Joe Torry) for downplaying the efforts of another man trying to do something with his life. It isn’t until deep into the fateful road-trip that the façade Lucky exudes begins to dissipate. As he strolls through an African festival with Justice, she questions his sudden silence and introspection. “I’m just thinking,” he replies, “It’s hard to think in the city”.

Lucky doesn’t really appear until this moment, when he begins to abandon the stereotypical facade. When he begins to be vulnerable. He becomes and example of what happens when we ultimately let our guard down. And we get to experience this trip with him. The further away they get from L.A. you can observe Lucky transform, almost like the changing landscape of the California coastline. And the backdrops perform as elegantly as the actors in the film. Throughout the road-trip, scenes of lush parks, mountains, and the Pacific Ocean crashing against the cliffs, contrast starkly to the arid cityscapes. Early on, the violence implicit in the remnants the L.A. riots, drug-infested projects, and a police presence so constant that they bleed into the background help us understand what Lucky means when he says it’s hard to think in the city. That violence is reiterated when Lucky finally arrives in Oakland to find his cousin and creative partner Khalil has been shot to death. 

It is this constant violence or threat of violence which explains why Lucky (and many Black men) performs a kind of hyper-bravado, despite the contradictions of his actual being. The violence is a glaring and tenuous reality and for Black men, and it is more often than not, a hindrance to any kind of respite one might discover by way of being vulnerable. But as revealed in the end, that kind of emotional nakedness is equally essential for survival. The one-dimensional version of Lucky was too rigid, to committed to an idea of himself that he stood in his own way. As he softened, he grew almost exponentially.

When things finally cooled between Lucky and Justice, she returns once more to his dirty hands. She pulls out her kit and begins to give him a manicure. Though the conversation centers on her own traumatic story, at that moment, Lucky’s submission to Justice becomes a rare moment of intimacy. And perhaps a subtle reminder that despite the fact that this world is harsh on us it’s important to remember that self-preservation also includes allowing those who love us to help take care of us.  

© Fahamu Pecou 2019