Though not a douchebag white guy directing rap music videos himself, Billie Woodruff had enough experience in the music video directing game to have plenty to bring to the narrative table of 2003’s Honey, written by Alonzo Brown and Kim Watson (who, fun fact, directed the videos for R. Kelly’s “Bump n’ Grind” and “Sex Me,” and probably feels racked with guilt about it which is why she never did much else after). Thus he imbues his knowledge of “the game” into portraying the quintessential sleazoid in sheep’s clothing Michael Ellis (David Moscow), the hottest director in the thriving world of hip hop music videos, just “happening” to catch a glimpse of Bronx girl Honey Daniels (Jessica Alba, in her greatest role) in a video clip from one of his associates as she does her usual effortlessly choreographed routine after finishing up her bartending shift at a club–the kind that makes you yearn for that sweaty, gritty time in NYC that was stamped out completely circa 2010. But in 2003, when the New York institution that was TRL still reigned supreme and with it a reverence and zeal for music videos that we may never know again apart from the crumbs of Beyonce’s visual albums, “being discovered” was still semi-believable–at least in movies with this amount of to be expected cheese.
And get discovered Honey does, with Michael specifically seeking her out in the club to tell her to give him a call, slipping her his business card in that dated way that also no longer happens in New York unless you’re on one of the islands Staten or Long. Honey, who is having her standard good time with her best friend, Gina (Joy Bryant), is initially revolted by Michael, her instinctual reaction being that he only wants to put her in a video to get “some booty” (this, mind you, is just one of many très early 00s phrases bandied throughout the movie). But when Gina reminds her 1) who he is and 2) that Michael didn’t say anything about taking her clothes off, Honey quickly changes her tune, now eager to call him the next day so as to save herself from the bleak existence of multiple jobs at the club (Overdrive), the record store (Crazy Louie’s) and the rec center where she teaches the local underprivileged denizens of her Bronx neighborhood the moves she was born with. Among those forgotten children–born against their will to negligent crackheads or those with a crackhead boyfriend–are Benny (then Lil’ Romeo before becoming Romeo Miller) and Raymond (Zachary Williams). The former is headed down the proverbial path of hanging with the wrong element (read: drug dealers), while the latter still has an impervious sense of innocence despite the detriments to purity called his surroundings. In fact, it seems the only other pure soul in the area is barber shop owner Chaz (beautiful, beautiful Mekhi Phifer). His crush on Honey is slow to make progress as she quickly ascends the ladder of the music video realm, appearing in a Jadakiss video here, a Tweet video there (ah yes, truly a golden age this time of early 00s hip hop)–and is then offered the promotion to choreographer for Ginuwine’s next video. Oh Honey, you didn’t think it was just based on your talent alone? But yes, she does. That is her fatal flaw throughout: being oblivious to her hotness and the “expectations” that go with it. Remember this is still peak pre-#MeToo era in the music biz.
In the face of the many obstacles to simply dancing her truth, however, Honey sustains a heart of gold that one envisions even Jennifer Lopez wasn’t able to while clawing her way the fuck out of the Bronx. Indeed, so “authentic” is Honey that she refuses to turn her back on her roots no matter how successful she becomes, albeit that success looks to be short-lived when she’s expected to pay the piper for her “overnight fame.” Yet Honey realizes she doesn’t care about losing her position and status so long as she can keep dancing and helping others find the freedom that comes from being able to dance, hence her MTV Movie Award worthy statement to her mother–the very person who runs the rec center–“I see kids go from bad homes to bad schools and back again. And I’ve seen you unlock a door to a place where those kids can feel safe. Maybe l’m dumb because l haven’t been to Paris or Milan or wherever, but to me, it doesn’t get much better than that.”
And if that doesn’t move you on the same level as the video for “21 Questions” by 50 Cent, then there is Missy Elliott’s key role in the film (which would have taken on an even more poignant meaning had Aaliyah remained alive to play the part of Honey as originally intended). Missy’s diva antics are also part of what makes Honey so on point–for, in truth, no one seems to recognize these days just how influential and powerful she was (and to anyone with taste) remains. Hence, her ability to ultimately wield Michael like a puppet after he attempts to blacklist Honey for not giving up “the booty” she initially surmised he wanted.
Based loosely on Honey Rockwell (though she never got any financial gain from the film), it’s clear that there’s a reason women like Madonna, J. Lo and, yes, even Paul Abdul sought to begin their careers as backup dancers. For there is nothing more liberating than the movement of one’s body, dangling it for men never to touch–that is, if she has even half the integrity of Honey.
