By the time the fifth and final episode of FX/Hulu’s Dear Mama: The Saga of Afeni and Tupac Shakur ends, director Allen Hughes comes from behind the camera and embraces Afeni’s sister, Glo, with a generous hug. She can no longer hold back the flood of tears recalling the harrowing yet remarkable lives of her sister and only nephew. Her voice, direct and booming throughout the docuseries, finally cracks. “We were left to tell the story,” says Glo, rising up out of frame because she’s said all she can say.
Reexamining Tupac’s life, with all its attendant tragic headlines, could have been a superfluous endeavor. Through Hughes’ lens, however, to fully understand Tupac’s journey is to understand Afeni’s and how their lives inspired revolutionary spirits around the world. “You see those Tupac murals in Africa, you see them in Asia, you see them all over Europe and South America, and now I know what people see — they see a global symbol of rebellion,” says Hughes, who co-directed Menace II Society and Dead Presidents with his brother, Albert. “I didn’t know that when I started this project. I asked myself, ‘What is the thing that everyone can understand if I do this the right way?’ It all goes back to them as social justice warriors.”
Through a series of interviews with Afeni’s former Black Panther Party comrades, Hughes explores how her civil rights activism informed Tupac’s core values, but also addresses the negative external forces that encumbered the poet turned rapper. The director encountered those forces firsthand. Hughes’ relationship with Tupac began in 1992, when he directed Tupac’s first videos, “Trapped” and “Brenda’s Got a Baby.” On these sets Hughes saw the magnetism that would immediately draw people, for better or worse, to Tupac. Their bond would remain intact until one fateful incident in 1993, when Hughes was viciously attacked by the gang members who infiltrated Tupac’s inner circle. Hughes would not speak to Tupac again. Dear Mama includes a rare moment in which the documentarian takes the hot seat and finally shares what happened. The revelation is brief but illuminates the complexity of the late star.
Hughes spoke with THR about getting Tupac and his mother’s story right, having the final say and why their spirits live on.
It’s been almost 27 years since Tupac’s death. What made you want to tell the story of Tupac and Afeni Shakur now?
I was raised by a single mother who was an activist. She was on the forefront of the feminist and women’s rights movements. I related to that, as well as for the part of my adolescence, the first eight, 10 years of my life, when we were on welfare. I can relate to the poverty struggle. But I always felt like I wanted to understand Tupac. I think he’s one of the most misunderstood figures of the 20th century. I figured I would discover him through his mother. I can’t find him through hip-hop, I can’t find him through a murder investigation or all that shit that’s been done before — I can only access him through Afeni. I was surprised by what a revelation she was because I didn’t know any[thing] about her before I started.
You had so much never-before-seen footage. Why approach it as a series rather than a feature?
There were a lot of people going, “Why are you telling this in five parts? He’s only 25.” I keep telling people it’s about his mother too, it’s about Panther history. There’s civil rights history in there. We’re going back to the ’60s through the ’70s, through the ’80s up into the ’90s. It’s a dual narrative. I knew there was no way to achieve that in a feature. It would be impossible to really do the deep dive.
As a young filmmaker, what drew you to Tupac?
As far back as I’ve known, I would sneak out in the streets in Detroit and watch the dope dealers, pimps, hustlers, preachers, prostitutes. Wherever the color was, is where I was; wherever the charisma was, was where I was. I didn’t realize for a time that’s where you find great characters and great stories. I was always addicted to narratives, and I didn’t know that’s what it was. When I met Tupac at a Waffle House with the whole Digital Underground crew, he wasn’t famous. He’s just some 19-year-old kid at the end of the table. But you could not stop laughing, he was roasting on everybody. It raised the question: Who are you? It was that kind of magical energy. He told me that he saw our films [the Hughes brothers had directed two shorts], and he just signed a record deal, and he wanted us to do his first music videos. I’m like (dismissively), “Yeah, yeah.” But I was taken with him. In our first music video ever, I just kept going, “Where’s Tupac? Where’s Tupac?” Shock G, Money-B, all the stars were there, and I said, “Where is Tupac?” [When] he got there, I put him in the middle of the scene, and that began our friendship. It was very clear. It’s like saying, how do you know it’s fire? You can feel the heat.
Let’s segue to when Tupac’s crew assaulted you after he felt slighted because you didn’t put him in Menace II Society. In Dear Mama, you say you didn’t want to speak to him afterward. How did you reconcile with someone who was once a friend to you, especially since he had passed?
When that happened, I went to the hospital. You can imagine 10, 15 dudes rolling you up like a burrito. It was not pretty. I was angry with him because I’m like, “Why did you have to take it there?” I offered to meet him personally one-on-one in the park. And that’s why I ended up going to court, because he wouldn’t meet me. He wasn’t ready, obviously. A couple of weeks later, me and my brother are at Cannes. We’re all over TV, on the Today show. We have the hottest movie in town. There was no time for me to think about [the assault], and I never really, to be frank, felt traumatized by it.
Years later, I was cutting [the 2017 doc series] The Defiant Ones, and Tupac was in part three. He just kept taking the movie over; for months he would take the whole narrative over. I’m like, “This movie’s not about him. What is going on?” We were wrestling with him, and that was the first time a lightbulb went off [that I should move past our history and fully tell Tupac’s story].
Now that the docuseries is streaming, do you feel you have done right by Tupac?
I have deep compassion for him. I didn’t have that before, to be frank. I just didn’t. I wasn’t trying to, it just naturally happened. I [was] brought to tears sometimes when I [saw] the footage over in the mixing stage. I’m like, “Damn, why am I crying?” Because I can see it now. The most important thing for me in this journey of making this film and this series is: A lot of Black history gets erased. We know that. But especially women’s history gets erased — and I know that by being raised by the feminist, radical, amazing woman that my mother is.
But a Black woman’s history? I wondered out loud: “How the fuck was I never taught about this woman and what she was doing in that courtroom?” [When she was 24, Afeni Shakur represented herself in a 1970-71 trial involving several counts of conspiracy, for which she was acquitted.] Being right there in the forefront with her brothers and sisters of the civil rights movement — that narrative alone, and her self-possession and off-the-charts intelligence, warrants a chapter in these history books. I was always precious, especially recently, about Black history and people of color having their history erased, but I’m even more sensitive to women of color’s history being erased. That’s the thing that’s been fucking me up recently, because I’m seeing the reaction to the film now and what people are saying about her, and how they’re respecting her as a woman and her journey. It hurts my heart.
One last thing: Do you think you’ve told the definitive story of Tupac Shakur’s life?
I absolutely believe this is the definitive story on Tupac and his journey. But he lived more in one day than most of us live in a year. I’m sure there are other stories that will come that will be equally revealing. There’s so many narratives there, as well as Afeni’s. I think when someone’s that dynamic and that complex and that fiery, this, as of now, is the definitive story.
Interview edited for length and clarity.
This story first appeared in a May stand-alone issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. To receive the magazine, click here to subscribe.
Source: Hollywood
