A thirteen-year-old city boy from Atlanta begrudgingly spends an entire summer in Brooklyn with his bible-thumping grandfather, Da Good Bishop Enoch Rouse. The kid wanted TV and an easy time, but finds clockers on benches and mandatory church attendance.
I'm pleased to see Spike's Chronicles of Brooklyn series of films continued, but RHS is a rather weak entry. Showing a different side of life in the projects was a good idea, and it has a number of powerful scenes that are well-captured, but the last third, the part of the film in which everything should be comfortably coming together, is extremely underdeveloped. To be blunt, it's like a first draft that still had wet ink. It's still worth at least one viewing, mostly for Clarke Peters' extremely convincing preacher routine.
2½ deep roots out of 5
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