They Cloned Tyrone Review

They Cloned Tyrone debuts on Netflix Friday, July 21

Netflix’s They Cloned Tyrone is a surprisingly hilarious genre mash-up. On one hand, it’s a campy exploitation film centered on the exaggeration of certain societal ills. One the other, it’s a science-fiction mystery/satirical comedy that uses horror elements to propel its plot. By all accounts, it shouldn’t work. And yet, the feature-length directorial debut of Creed II screenwriter Juel Taylor mostly entertains thanks to a clever balancing of themes.

The initial conflict feels like a set up for a joke – a pimp, a sex worker, and a drug dealer stumble into a secret underground lab after “witnessing” a murder – but it’s all played straight. Their collective dismay at what appears to be a human-cloning operation is only ever eclipsed by the realization that a sinister force has been working within their midst for some time, and now they don’t know who they can trust. It’s a weird predicament for sure, but relatable given how the cast responds. The same goes for the way They Cloned Tyrone grounds heightened characterizations of lower-to-middle-class citizens in realistic depictions of their everyday struggles, and how a wild government-conspiracy plot is made less so by its similarities to historic events.

This push and pull is also showcased visually. They Cloned Tyrone takes place in what’s supposed to be a typical, low-income area of the American South called Glen – but when the film is set is left purposely ambiguous. Characters sport clothing that is simultaneously retro and modern, as if it were manufactured in an alternative version of the 1970s. Flip phones and landlines abound alongside references to President Obama. The hair styles, slang, abundance of CRT TVs, a grainy filter that mimics the look of old, lower quality films – all of these things create a stylized aesthetic that’s akin to the otherworldly vibe of films like It Follows, where the audience is made uncomfortable by a perspective positioned slightly outside of reality.

This is one of the aspects that makes They Cloned Tyrone so compelling. What would be an otherwise interesting, yet potentially clichéd approach to social commentary is elevated by the relative believability of the film’s surreal events. The eerie atmosphere created by the mixture of time periods foreshadows the sinister happenings in Glen, itself a reflection of towns impoverished by the cyclical nature of systemic oppression. No matter how outlandish They Cloned Tyrone gets, its plot remains relatable – which is important, considering how most of its Black cast portrays characters deemed morally unsavory.

They Cloned Tyrone could’ve been a convoluted mess of ideas, but that isn’t remotely the case, thanks in large part to Taylor’s natural progression from screenwriter to director. He and his collaborators – including long-time writing partner Tony Rettenmaier – have a strong command over their shared vision, resulting in an homage to Blaxploitation that, while unapologetic in tone, seeks to embody encouraging sentiments over perpetuating negative stereotypes.

None of this works without a great cast. Thankfully, They Cloned Tyrone is full of talented actors like John Boyega, who’s convincing in his portrayal of the titular Tyrone Fontaine. As a drug dealer who commands respect whenever he enters a room, it’s easy to believe the notion that he isn’t to be trifled with. Boyega isn’t all aggression all the time; his stoic demeanor eventually gives way to impassioned displays of grief and brief moments of happiness. Jamie Foxx’s depiction of the flamboyant pimp Slick Charles is amusing; his comical observations do well to lighten the mood during the most trying events. And while his rapid firing of quips approaches annoying at times, Foxx’s inherent charm and ability to coin a phrase often corrects the course.

Meanwhile, Teyonah Parris steals every scene she’s in as the sex worker Yo-Yo. Tough, smart, and an all-around capable individual, she exudes a level of confidence that’s unmatched by the rest of the cast. Parris is also hilarious. Able to deliver her lines with gusto, she can easily trade insults with the best of them – the banter between her and Foxx is one of the film’s highlights.

None of this works without a great cast.

They Cloned Tyrone’s positive messaging is clear, but there’s a murkiness to its execution. The conspiracy that Tyrone, Slick Charles, and Yo-Yo expose – which begins with the cloning, but goes much, much deeper – is so outrageous that it potentially undercuts the points Taylor and Rettenmaier’s screenplay is trying to make about systemic oppression in the real world. Though They Cloned Tyrone aspires to the sophisticated satirical edge of Get Out, its choice to attribute all the misfortunes faced by Black people to shadowy government activities lands closer to the over-the-top spoof of Black Dynamite.

There’s also the anticlimactic ending. While it serves up an interesting conclusion based on eugenics and a comically absurd manifestation of respectability politics, the final moments feel a little rushed considering the dangerous implications of the conspiracy at the heart of the plot. The inevitable skirmish is over as soon as it begins, nods to a potential ongoing conflict notwithstanding.