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‘American Dream / American Knightmare’ Profiles Infamous Hip Hop Manager Suge Knight

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American Dream/American Knightmare

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Former Death Row Records CEO Marion “Suge” Knight is the most hated man in hip hop, if not, America as a whole. I mean, who’s more hated? Donald Trump?  Whatever you think about it, there are actually people that like him. Game of Thrones showrunners David Benioff and D. B. Weiss?  Maybe.  “Pharma bro” Martin Shkreli? OK, probably, but Suge’s a close #2. Consider this; he is hated equally by former friends and total strangers and by both the hip hop community and the law enforcement community. In fact the only people who have anything nice to say about him in American Dream / American Knightmare, the new bio-doc that’s currently streaming on Showtime, are the members of his family.

Since rising to infamy in the early ’90s, Knight has been blamed for the advent of gangsta rap, the advent of Vanilla Ice, the East Coast–West Coast hip hop feud, the murder of Tupac Shakur and the murder of The Notorious B.I.G., not to mention the actual crimes he’s been tried and convicted of, which include armed robbery, assault and manslaughter. He has also survived bankruptcy, beat downs, blood clots, incarceration, and several attempts on his life. Consisting of interviews and conversations with director Antoine Fuqua of Training Day and The Equalizer fame, American Dream / American Knightmare finds Knight unrepentant and relishing his reputation as the most dangerous man in hip hop.

As he recounts the bullet points of his life over drinks with Fuqua, Knight’s self-mythology is equal parts braggadocio, contradiction and the occasional moment of insight. He says he grew up in a happy home in Compton, California, which he calls “the land of opportunity,” but also speaks of seeing his first dead body at 5 or 6 and his affinity for the Bloods street gang. He excelled at football, where hurting people was encouraged, eventually attending the University of Nevada, Las Vegas (UNLV) on scholarship. He was drafted by the Los Angeles Rams in 1987 but quit after being benched and compares the NFL to being a slave on a plantation.

Knight began working as a concert promoters and bodyguard, where he brags that if things had to get rough, he got rough. But additionally, he was learning the music business from the inside. This is also where rumor and fact start to cross. After starting his own music publishing company, Knight asked rapper Vanilla Ice for a percentage of his breakout hit “Ice Ice Baby,” claiming one of his artists helped write it. In archival interview footage, Ice claims he was strong-armed into signing over his publishing rights, a story he later recanted. The film presents the accusation but never tries to find out the ultimate truth.

In the early ’90s, Knight helped launch Death Row Records with rapper and producer Dr. Dre, who he got out of his N.W.A. contract by allegedly threatening manager Jerry Heller. Again, old interview footage shows Heller accusing Knight, who mostly smirks or soft pedals the events that occurred. The label put out some of the most important hip hop records of the 1990s but was also at the epicenter of an ugly rivalry between opposing camps on the East and West Coasts as they battled for hip hop primacy. There were legitimate reasons the feud developed and actual incidents that fanned the flames, but American Dream / American Knightmare seems less concerned with finding out what really happened than the myths that surround them.

On the night of Sept. 7, 1996, Knight was driving in a car Tupac Shakur when they were shot at by unknown gunmen following an altercation at Las Vegas’ MGM Grand. Shakur would die from his injuries, while Knight was hit in the head by bullet fragments. Knight seems genuinely affected from the incident, claiming he lost not just his biggest star, but also a friend and “little brother.” He denies any involvement in Shakur’s murder or that of his East Coast rival The Notorious B.I.G. months later, and seems believable. It was around this time that the music business got sick of having to look over its shoulder every time he came around and he was sentenced to nine years in prison for parole violations.

Filmed in 2011 and 2012, before a 2014 attempt on his life where he was shot several times and his 2018 conviction on manslaughter charges, Knight vacillates between bragging about his exploits and trying to justify them. Both reek of subterfuge. Knight is savvy enough not to admit to any criminal activity but also recognizes the value in the perception of him as a gangster. He’s not particularly charming or likable, but you do find yourself captivated by him and his stories, like watching news footage of a car chase on the roadways of Los Angeles.

As a documentary, American Dream / American Knightmare feels incomplete and unfinished, which is surprising given Fuqua’s abilities as a filmmaker. Perhaps, he was simply unable to finish the movie he wanted to make when reality got in the way. Knight ran over two men with his car on the set of the N.W.A. biofilm Straight Outta Compton in 2015, one of whom died from his injuries. In 2018, he pleaded no contest to manslaughter charges and was sentenced to 28 years in prison. According to the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation, Knight is not eligible for parole until 2037, when he will be 72 years old.

Benjamin H. Smith is a New York based writer, producer and musician. Follow him on Twitter: @BHSmithNYC.

Stream American Dream / American Knightmare on Showtime