In the years since his death, I’m pretty sure successful reggae albums have been released by all of Bob Marley’s children, his stepchildren, his weed dealer, garbage man, hat knitter, chauffeur, bong maker, and dog walker, Fido Goldstein-Marley. So the idea that someone would make a Bob Marley movie is pretty much the least surprising thing ever (they made one called Marley and Me, but apparently it barely had reggae in it at all). In this case, that someone was Kevin MacDonald, director of Last King of Scotland, the awesome film about Idi Amin and his tremendous capacity for both cruelty and prodigious farts (seriously though, I really liked it). Marley is supposedly two and a half hours long, and while I own and from time to time enjoy Bob Marley’s greatest hits album, I find that reggae is really awesome for about 40 minutes, but after about an hour it gets so mellow and repetitive that it kind of makes you want to murder everyone.
The upside is that there’s probably enough patois and Jamaican slang in it to keep our Rasta Precious character (inspired by Gabourey Sidibe in Tower Heist) going for another year. “Hey, mon! Whar dem bumbaclot rude bway oo gwan an tief me rroast cheekhan? Dem bandulu know me been savin dat cheekhan bone far me jerk donut bbq! Buh! Buh! Rude bway gwan give me da cheekhan if him want da poonani..”
See? I focused on the positives. I thought that was very mature of me.