(The director has freely admitted in interviews that the film is a complex mélange of snippets that Curtis-essentially playing a version of himself-shot on his own before approaching Russell, and scenes that Russell had a hand in staging.) Let’s not delve too far down the rabbit hole of where the “docu” ends and the “drama” begins in Snow on tha Bluff. The film frames its fly-on-the-wall imagery as “found” material-or, at least, as preexisting footage that Snow “handed off” to Russell for assemblage. Russell structures the film along episodic lines, with bursts of gunplay sandwiched between bouts of block-party revelry and Snow’s to-the-camera confessionals about his lifelong role in the drug trade. Snow on tha Bluff doesn’t push these plot machinations too hard, though.
Snow on the bluff fake series#
Snow finds these two sides of his life coming into troubling contact with one another as an escalating series of drug-gang retaliations makes both Curtis and his loved ones targets for sudden violence. He’s also a father of a two-year-old boy, trying to be a presence in his son’s life while remaining on cordial terms with the child’s mother. A dope slinger and armed robber by trade, Snow spends his days scoping out rival dealers, packaging product in safe houses, and stalking the streets of the Bluff with his friends, a 40 oz., and a blunt never far from hand. Only then does director Damon Russell introduce his true subject: Curtis Snow, the wily thief whose sudden possession of a recording apparatus prompts him to document the ins and outs of his life on the street. In one swift and brutal move, the film kicks these self-satisfied navel-gazers to the curb. The gangly black man hops into their car and tells them to drive around the block to his storage place, and with the car pulled over on a side street, he whips out a pistol, snatches their valuables (including the camera), and takes to the streets. After a couple minutes of searching, the threesome finds a willing dealer.
Snow on the bluff fake movie#
Their car isn’t jacked, but their movie is. “Like, ‘We’re gonna get car-jacked in the hood, yo!’” Shaky cam, youthful disaffection, overlapping dialogue-so far, so mumblecore-ish. “You assholes watch too many movies,” she says with a chortle.
Snow on the bluff fake driver#
Both the car’s driver and the dude who continues to operate the camera sound audibly nervous about driving through this part of town-apprehension their friend casually dismisses.
Cut to the same trio as they cruise “the Bluff,” an economically destitute section of Atlanta notorious for its drug trade, in search of a score. One opines that he would never want to live permanently in Atlanta, and muses about his future in New York City. Three twentysomethings stand atop Georgia’s Stone Mountain, scanning the vista with their digital camera. Snow on tha Bluff opens with a great fake-out.