Chapter 65: Make Sure It's Rated R
Since Quentin Tarantino had quit working at the video store, he'd been hanging around Dawnlight Films. After helping out on Phone Booth, he was now attached to the Boyz n the Hood project.
One evening, at a Sunset Boulevard nightclub, Quentin had two provocatively dressed women draped over him.
Aaron, lounging on the sofa, raised an eyebrow when Quentin swaggered over. "Tell me, Quentin—what's more important to you, God or hookers?"
Tarantino just grinned. "They're my muses."
Most of the money he'd earned selling the True Romance script had already gone to call girls.
"Alright, enough. CAA's circulating Natural Born Killers to a few producers and directors. From where I sit, it has legs," Aaron said, taking a sip of his drink. "Got anything new cooking?"
Quentin nodded eagerly. "I've got a few ideas, but nothing finished. For now, Boyz n the Hood comes first. Once I've learned enough, I want to direct my own film."
Then he leaned in, eyes burning. "You promised you'd back me, Aaron. Don't think I'll forget."
"Relax. Dawnlight will support you."
Suddenly, the club erupted with cheers.
"Another celebrity?" Aaron asked, unimpressed by the commotion.
Quentin craned his neck. A tall figure entered. "Looks like Magic Johnson."
Aaron stiffened. The guy's about to be diagnosed with HIV. Better get out of here fast.
Quentin shrugged. "He's a regular. Lakers crashed out early this season—I've seen him at a couple other clubs."
The Lakers had lost in the second round to the Suns. Kareem Abdul-Jabbar had retired the year before. Meanwhile, the Pistons had won their second straight championship.
Aaron shook his head. "Not my scene. I'm heading out. And Quentin—maybe cool it with the hookers, huh? Boyz n the Hood is about to start shooting. Focus."
Quentin smirked, but Aaron could see he wasn't listening.
On his way out, Aaron cast a glance back at Magic Johnson, remembering the rumors that he'd slept with more than 2,000 women. True or not, it was staggering.
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With Boyz n the Hood moving forward, director John Singleton assembled his cast: Cuba Gooding Jr., Ice Cube, Morris Chestnut, and Laurence Fishburne.
One afternoon, Aaron and Singleton stood on the balcony of a South Central apartment, looking out at the streets below.
"These blocks have seen decades of bloodshed," Singleton explained. "The Bloods and the Crips—drug wars, gambling, robberies, murders. Kids here grow up surrounded by violence. It's in the air they breathe."
Aaron lit a cigarette. "Which is why your script has to be more than realism. Show the chaos, yes—but guide the audience. Point toward growth, especially for Black youth."
Singleton nodded. "Exactly. Broken families, racism, crime, teenage parents—these are the roots. The film has to confront that."
Aaron frowned slightly. "No corrupt white cops? You're sure?"
In Singleton's script, white officers were polite and professional, while Black cops were hostile and self-loathing.
Singleton shook his head. "Too many successful Black folks despise their own. They want to live like whites, in white neighborhoods, and look down on their own people even harder. That's the sickness I want to show."
Aaron thought of Michael Jackson—ostracized by some in the Black community for "betraying" his race. He understood Singleton's point.
"Still," Aaron warned, "don't overdo the violence. Keep it at R. No NC-17."
He explained. "Take Henry & June. Adapted from Anaïs Nin's novel, full of explicit sex and same-sex love scenes. MPAA slapped it with an X rating. The studio appealed, and the board created NC-17 just for it. First film ever to wear that label.
"But NC-17 is box office poison. Boyz n the Hood can't be the second."
Singleton was firm. "I'm not glorifying violence. This isn't exploitation. I want audiences to care about young Black lives, not revel in gang wars. If the message lands, the film will have power."
Aaron exhaled smoke, reassured. "Good. Substance brings box office. And don't worry—distribution's already lined up. Columbia Pictures will release it. Target: next March."
"No problem," Singleton said. "Two months to shoot, two months to edit. Sound and music can run in parallel. We'll be ready."
Aaron chuckled. "Music? With all these rappers around, finding tracks won't be an issue."
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