“March days in Chicago could be cold. But in 1967, a frigid March morning brought a warm spark of promise to a small bungalow on the south side of Chicago.”—Wood Harris, “Benji” narrator
The harsh realities tempered with the rise of a shooting star. The promise of happiness to come evoked with the gazing of greatness personified. Such was the meaning of the quote above narrating the onset of Benjamin “Benji” Wilson’s life. Coodie and Chike directed and Creative Control produced for season two of ESPN’s highly touted “30 for 30” series , “Benji” offers a chilling and touching narrative of Wilson, the top-ranked high school basketball player in 1984 out of Chicago’s Simeon Vocational High School.
With an exclusive screening of the documentary for on-demand cable television viewers, “Benji” may set the stage and standard for the “30 for 30” films that follow it for this season (“Benji” will officially debut on Tuesday October 23 at 8 on ESPN). Utilizing those who knew Wilson best from family, friends, neighbors, classmates, teammates, NBA players and musical stars, it helped to present the essence of the kid who handled the rock “like Isaiah Thomas” and smiled “like Magic Johnson”.
The pulsating sounds of house music helped create the musical backdrop during happier times for Windy City youth. Arrested youth and ambulances painted the picture of the rise of street gangs and proliferation of drugs in Chicago in the late 1970s. Vintage footage of hotly contested summer playground games and Chicago State University’s pro-am league featuring a rookie Michael Jordan provide hoop historians with a taste of what the Windy City had to offer. It was a scene that birthed the likes of Thomas, Terry Cummings, Nick Anderson, Tim Hardaway and Juwan Howard. Wilson was and still is considered the best of them all. No one expected it from a 5-foot-10 and lithe freshman considered the 12th best on the 14-man freshman/Sophomore team.
“Ben Wilson was my Kevin Garnett. My Tracy McGrady. My Kobe Bryant. My LeBron James. He opened my eyes and the world of basketball’s eyes to being the phenom. The true phenom that had no exposure.”—Sonny Vaccaro, grassroots basketball/marketing executive
In 1984, viewers see the change in Wilson as a 6-foot-7 junior, freshly minted as the nation’s best. One element of Benji’s game projected by multiple subjects was smoothness. Watching footage of Wilson’s exploits against some of Chicago’s most storied programs, the gracefulness is evident. It was a great time for those up close and afar. Journalist Scoop Jackson compared rap in 1988 to the golden age of Chicago in ’84. Harold Washington became the city’s first black mayor a year earlier in 1983 while Jordan was soaring through the air. Oprah Winfrey relocated to the city in ’83 to begin her reign atop the talk show charts. From all who spoke, Benji‘s status and influence was equal (if not greater) to the above mentioned.
“He had that presence. He had the personality. He had the look. He had everything you could have to be a superstar.”—Common, rapper
What makes any piece of art great is feeling. Feeling given to a project and feeling released to the people. Such is the case with “Benji”. Strong anecdotal gems such as a teammate’s account of Wilson putting on a dizzying bank shot exhibition with his velvety jumper in front of Simeon head coach Robert Hambric to earn his spot on the varsity as a sophomore. Moments as light-hearted as a school-boy prank by Benji to a near run in with gang violence outside the Simeon gym hold strong throughout, amplified by animations giving the viewer images to the words.
“The morning was a normal morning. Benji kisses mom. Kisses Jeff. Kisses me. And we go out, go onto drop us off at school. He goes to school.”—Anthony Wilson, Wilson’s younger brother
That morning was on November 20, 1984. The day Wilson’s life was ended at age 17 by the gun-triggering of a 16-year-old. The film’s timely animation comes through once more showing a towering Wilson stumbling from gun shots through his liver and aorta. The gasping of breath and chaos surrounding the scene half a block away from the school does nothing less than capture your attention.
“It’s not how long you live, but how well you live.”—Mary Wilson, Wilson’s mother
Perhaps two lessons were learned at the closing of the film. The first being the strength displayed by Mary Wilson while facing the light of television cameras and dark times of teary eyed kids and adults. The second, forgiveness and redemption, comes somewhat as a surprise with the revealing of a 43-year old Billy Moore, the shooter on that November day. Moore officially speaks on what happened for the first time. For viewers, watching it may produce conflicting feelings, adding to an already powerful film.
“He does represent a dream unfulfilled.”—Scoop Jackson, journalist
Ben Wilson was the 669th murder victim in 1984. A couple weeks ago, Chicago reached the 400 homicide mark for the year, the fastest the city has done so in almost 10 years. The “Benji” documentary is strong as a standalone no doubt, but the viewing of it at this moment adds more depth to it. The disregard for Wilson’s life is the same attitude running rampant in locales everywhere in this country. These sobering occurrences usually bring self-analysis and possible solutions to the problem.
The sport Wilson loved is being used as such. In late September, Isaiah Thomas and other NBA players showed support for the Peace Basketball Tournament. Players from divided neighborhoods Englewood and Gresham came together. Two of Simeon’s finest were in attendance as well. Jabari Parker, the nation’s top-ranked high school player along with Chicago’s latest “warm spark”, Derrick Rose. How big a coincidence that the Bulls’ star is a product of the city and school where Wilson once roamed? When watching Rose excel in front of the home crowd, understand the impact goes beyond the 94-feet of hardwood. Rose and Parker represent redemption and remembrance.
Can basketball rid the world of its ills? Of course not, but by watching “Benji” most will see his impact in the community. You will see how his sparkling game and smile provided warmth in the midst of chilling realities.
THE MARSHALL REVIEW 