Ah, Velvet Smooth—a film that serves as a delightful reminder that the Blaxploitation era could make even the most nonsensical plots feel like a revolution wrapped in polyester. This 1976 gem follows the titular Velvet Smooth, a private investigator with a name that sounds like it was dreamt up during a late-night brainstorming session at a jazz lounge. Velvet is played by Johnnie Hill, whose performance is equal parts commanding and campy—a blend that perfectly matches the film’s tone.
The story begins with a crisis: someone is muscling in on the territory of a local crime boss, and Velvet Smooth is called in to investigate. What follows is a whirlwind of funky fight scenes, dubiously choreographed kung fu, and dialogue so stiff you’d think the script was printed on cardboard. But what it lacks in finesse, it makes up for in sheer swagger. Velvet may not be a master detective (her primary investigative tactic seems to involve walking confidently into every room), but she is undeniably stylish, a veritable goddess of ’70s fashion and attitude.
The action sequences are gloriously awkward, with punches and kicks that often land a full two feet away from their intended targets. Watching the fight scenes, one can’t help but feel a pang of admiration for the sheer audacity of it all. The stunt choreography may be about as smooth as gravel, but it’s delivered with such earnestness that you almost forget to laugh—almost.
And the music! The soundtrack is a funky mélange of wah-wah guitars and jazzy brass, a pulsating backdrop to the mayhem on screen. It’s a shame, really, that the soundtrack so often overshadows the dialogue; then again, perhaps it’s for the best. The script, while ambitious, leans heavily on clichés and exposition that feels like it’s being delivered at gunpoint.
Velvet herself is the film’s saving grace. Johnnie Hill imbues the character with charisma and grit, elevating her above the muddled plot and clumsy direction. She’s a force to be reckoned with, a no-nonsense investigator who can throw a punch, deliver a snappy one-liner, and look fabulous doing it. If the film had a better budget—or any budget—it’s easy to imagine Velvet Smooth becoming a genuine icon of the genre.
But alas, Velvet Smooth is not a film concerned with being “good.” It’s concerned with being cool, and to that end, it succeeds—albeit in a delightfully haphazard way. The film is a glorious trainwreck of style over substance, a time capsule of ’70s Blaxploitation cinema that captures the spirit of the era, warts and all.
Do I recommend it? Absolutely, but only if you approach it with a sense of humor and a deep appreciation for the scrappy charm of low-budget cinema. Velvet Smooth is not a masterpiece—it’s a vibe, an experience, a funky trip through the wild world of Blaxploitation.
Rating: 3 monocles out of 5
For sheer style, funky tunes, and Johnnie Hill’s undeniable presence, even if the rest of the film is held together with duct tape and dreams.