It’s endlessly interesting to find out who’s been influenced (and or become a fan of) a movie. To meet a young (ish) dude who spends his free time playing in hardcore bands that proclaims Boyz ‘n the Hood to be one of his favorite flicks of all time is just short of revelatory. Yeah, that means the movie’s a winner.

That being said, John Singleton has to rank up there with Spike Lee as one of the most popular, if not important (black) directors of his generation. Of course, that sentiment is based largely on his 1991 debut. But even lesser fair like the re-do of Shaft, which was a bummer if I ever saw one, or BAADASSSS! carries with it a cultural import that moves well beyond whether or not the flick was a success artistically or financially.

There aren’t a great many black faces on the big screen – although my recent acquaintance resides in Atlanta, which functions as ground zero for more than a few Tyler Perry vehicles. And even if Singleton’s first feature effort portrays a violent and often confusing picture of what it was, is or could be to grow up black in America, the film was a step forward in American cinema.

Beginning with the familial set-up, Cuba Gooding Jr’s character, Tre, gets sent to live with his father after yet another fateful classroom outburst. Despite the scholastic problems that the main character gets himself into, Tre seems genuinely driven to become successful and not to sink down into the mire that surrounds him.

Much of that persistence and drive comes from his father, here played by Lawrence Fishburne, who approximates a grown up ‘70s radical. Tre’s father works to find families money to purchase homes when not lecturing his son and his friends about gentrification. That speech, at this late date, though, reads somewhat paranoid. Surely, gentrification screws some folks, but every ethnic and racial group has an enclave that is eventually going to be infiltrated by the cultural other – everyone involved, though, should just hope that it’s the right ‘other’ that shows up.

Regardless of that posturing, Tre is a part of a social group that includes a few brothers – one of which has had more than a few run ins with the law. Portrayed by a jheri curled Ice Cube, Doughboy represents a life style that Singleton at once condemns, but understands. There’s a glamour about all Doughboy’s endeavors as well as an earned respect and chivalry. No, Ice Cube’s character doesn’t spend time opening doors for woman, but he does protect his own no matter the situation – and that is admirable in any walk of life.

Of course, ending a narrative like this one in positive terms would have earned Singleton the banner of sell out. And while there isn’t as explosive an ending as Hollywood may have wanted, the conclusion of Boyz ‘n the Hood pushes its viewers to re-examine any preconceived notions about how the inner city and its inhabitants work.