The formula for a gospel play:
- Son is a Gang-banger (Father ain’t around)
- Grandmamma prays for her grandson (who also sells drugs)
- Somebody dies
- Whole family prays some more
- Gang-banging, dope-dealing, fatherless grandson gets saved
- Everybody gives God the glory
- The end
That’s what was being offered on the gospel play circuit back then. Add in the fact that the marketing made these shows feel like you were going to a revival at your local church and I’m pretty sure single, twenty-six year old males were not a part of their core demographic. That’s what made Tyler’s stuff so appealing to me. He didn’t adhere to that tired formula and created something that felt more real.
And I was so close to not seeing the moevis. But now, after reading this, these cats have not affected me at all. So really nothing has happened, which of course is the best thing that could have happened. Thanks cats.(I feel like I should have stopped at the ninth Long Island Iced Tea. But ten is such a nice round number. Where am I anyway?)