Sex & Negrocity  John Singleton on Shtupping, Shaft, and Spike
Black people can be found #!@$ing in John Singleton's Baby Boy.
Rawdog, pardon our French. Your usual euphemisms need not apply.
Not your having sex making love makem whoopee or knocking boots
nor your beast with two backs gettin' it on gettin' busy gettin'
down doing the do the deed the nasty the wild thing. No. Just
dead all that. Negroes are #!@$ing in this movie. Rawdog.
Simulating that real deal with a license to ill deal sex. That
sweaty, steamy, comical, contortionist, desperate, anxious,
African stuff. #!@$ing isn't all people do in Baby Boy (opening
June 29), a film also fixated on life, death, familial
dysfunction, repair, and redemption, not to mention one 20-year-
old man's fear of cutting the umbilical cord though he has
children by two working women. All the ribaldry does figure into
that equation, though, primarily as a harbinger of death,
rebirth, and raison d'être.  Truth to tell, the bedroom scenes
aren't that graphic—there's mor