They Cloned Tyrone Review: There Goes The Neighborhood

There's a sense of flash and fun that pervades everything about "They Cloned Tyrone," the new Netflix original film from director and co-writer Juel Taylor. From the jump, the title alone makes you smile a little, imagining what a movie carrying that name could possibly throw at you and hoping it's weird and memorable. Then you get to the trailers, the posters, and the film's swagger-laden blend of Blaxploitation and conspiracy science fiction, and you've got a movie that just screams "You're about to have a good time."

Thankfully, from the very first frames of the film, "They Cloned Tyrone" makes good on that promise and then some, delivering the kind of instantly addictive movie experience that will both keep you glued to your seat and make you tempted to start the movie over again as soon as the credits roll. Taylor and his cast of all-stars and top-notch character actors have built something that makes an instant impression and then just never lets go; a thrilling, hilarious, wild ride that's also got something more to say, which means it will leave you haunted as well as charmed. That's not an easy line to ride, but this movie does it, and it looks great doing it.

In a Black neighborhood known as The Glen, three acquaintances start noticing strange things. Drug dealer Fontaine (John Boyega), sex worker Yo-Yo (Teyonah Parris), and pimp Slick Charles (Jamie Foxx) are all wrapped up in each other's lives in one way or another, but lately, the ways in which their paths are crossing seem a little eerie. Things get even stranger when a seemingly fatal event appears to have been reversed by mysterious forces, sending the trio on a search for answers that eventually leads them to a deserted house, a surprise elevator, and an underground lab. There, they discover that secretive forces are responsible for things like creating music that controls your mind, sneaking psychoactive drugs into fried chicken, and yes, cloning people in The Glen and putting duplicates out into the world, all while they monitor the whole neighborhood.

So, what's this all about? Why is the Glen at the center of this conspiracy, and what does it have to do with Fontaine's own detached and distant home life? Some of the film's secrets are readily and happily given away in the trailers, while others are better left unspoken until you see for yourself. What is apparent right away, though, is that Juel Taylor has a firm and flourish-laden command of the entire scope of this narrative, and that makes him capable of steering the whole thing into some very tonally challenging but ultimately quite rewarding territory.

What audiences will notice first — thanks in part to the great performances of the core trio of stars — is the film's combination of lightning-fast comedic dialogue and Blaxploitation-inspired, silky smooth photography, enhanced by a grainy texture that deliberately calls to mind the urban action films of the 1970s. Fontaine, Yo-Yo, and Slick Charles talk fast, drop pop culture references like it's their job, and infuse every moment of the story with a kind of thrilling narrative tension, even when the stakes are low and the moment might pass predictably. Then there's the look of the film, which of course calls to mind a certain era of Black cinema, but also creates an almost dreamlike reality around the characters. The Glen is a recognizable American neighborhood, yes, but through everything from the color palette chosen for the cars to the signage to the TV ads that play in the background, it's clear that there's something manufactured at work, something that's not quite reality, something that threatens the lives of all three protagonists.

Within this dreamy, R&B-laced world created by Juel Taylor and the rest of the production team, John Boyega, Teyonah Parris, and Jamie Foxx have to create a sense of buoyant verisimilitude. They have to make us feel the reality of the characters even as the world in which they live is tinged with unbelievable highlights and absurdist flights. That's helped along by the script from Taylor and Tony Rettenmaier, which infuses the story with dark science fiction, genuine human drama, and even horror to great effect — but it would never work without this cast rising to meet the moment, to walk the fine lines between humor and terror, heart and irony. They're all so in tune with the material, and so willing to go to all the strange and wonderful places the film takes them, that the whole thing works.

This kind of well-oiled performance machine is solid enough, and moves at a thrilling enough pace, to allow Taylor to really dig deeper into what he's trying to say with this story of callous experimentation on a Black neighborhood in America. There are loads of metaphors worth unpacking in this story, all of them simultaneously timely and timeless, but at its core, "They Cloned Tyrone" is about who gets to control your narrative, how the powerful seek to wrest that control away from you, and how far you'll go to get that control back. It's in a slick, very entertaining package, but that's what hits home the hardest in this film. With that in mind, "They Cloned Tyrone" plays like the raucous child of Spike Lee and Boots Riley, and that's enough to make it one of the summer's most entertaining films.

"They Cloned Tyrone" hits Netflix on July 21.