Movie Review: "Sorry to Bother You" Is Unstoppable

There are zero apologies in the merciless Sorry to Bother You, but you’ll be sorry if you miss it.

Sorry to Bother You, the directorial debut of musician Boots Riley, is a black comedy that’s no joke, a fantasy about a future dystopia that’s too real, and a satire so ferocious it’ll leave visible bite marks on your person.

Oh, and it’s bloody great.

Lakeith Stanfield, of Atlanta and being too good for The Girl in the Spider’s Web fame, stars as "Cash" Green, a going-nowhere nobody living out of his uncle’s (Terry Crews) garage in Oakland.

(The first clue that this isn’t your typical flick is the fact they got Stanfield to play an everyman. He’s an exceptional actor, from Short Term 12 to Get Out and again so here. Still, when he’s playing your beacon of sanity, you know you’re in for a strange trip.)

Cash gets a gig as a telemarketer, which is a real win for him, though he needs to make some sales if he wants to survive off the commission. (There’s no pay, otherwise.) A fellow black colleague (Danny Glover) tells Cash to use his "white voice" to instil confidence in those on the other side of the line, and suddenly, the nasal, ingratiating patter of David Cross pours out of his mouth, helping him close deals and climb the corporate ladder—or, literally, golden elevator—graduating to "Power Caller" status.

Now he can sell the big ticket items. He finds out what those items are. And the film arrives at its point.

The trailers for Sorry to Bother You focus on the "white voice" stuff, and not what comes next. Be thankful. Seeing Stanfield lip-sync to David Cross is hilarious, and it becomes a cutting recurring joke. However, it’s the swirling, roiling drama on the sidelines that becomes central—and truly significant—as we near the, ahem, inventive climax. No spoilers.

A promoted Cash crosses the picket line of his protesting colleagues (Steven Yeun, Jermaine Fowler) and winds up in the inner circle of WorryFree CEO Steve Lift (Armie Hammer, up to 11). WorryFree offers people free food and lodging in exchange for a lifetime work contract and, uh, a lil’ something extra. When Cash first sees a cheery WorryFree ad on TV, you’d think writer-director Riley was only gently nudging America satirically for using imprisonment as a new form of slavery. But this ain’t Ava DuVernay’s The 13th, and Riley’s not doing anything gently.

Without ruining and also not underselling the movie’s wild transformation into something entirely unexpected, Sorry to Bother You goes HAM with an inspired and absurd finale. Provocative points are made, and then some, and then some. You’ll remember this flick, that’s for damn sure.

Riley’s script articulates abstract arguments with verve, and it repackages debates about race, revolution and workers’ rights in a container you wouldn’t have ever imagined. It’s rageful and also really very funny, in smart and silly ways, and has a deep bench of appealing actors, including Tessa Thompson as Cash’s performance artist—and performative protestor—girlfriend Detroit. Riley, whose political hip-hop group The Coup told a version of this story on their 2012 concept album Sorry to Bother You, supplies the propulsive soundtrack with tUnE-yArDs. I can keep listing amazing things if you need me to?

Or, you can just watch the thing, and have the incredible sights and sounds unfurled more elegantly by Riley. All you need to know going in is that it’s a trenchant commentary on blackness, whiteness and moral greyness, told in living colour by an artist who nonetheless draws a definitive line and makes you pick a side. Sorry not sorry.

4.5/5

In Australian cinemas 29 November. Rated MA15+ for strong sex scenes, coarse language, drug use and nudity.

Header Image: Universal Pictures