Or so it would seem, anyway, from the opening of Based On A True Story, his first album in two decades. Within moments of hitting play on “Int. Barbershop – Day”, he’s putting everyone and everything on blast - the haters, the sycophants, himself. “Fuck him and fuck you too” indeed. Smith and his supporting players (Jazzy Jeff, B. Simone) illustrate the wide gamut of opinions on the rapper-turned-actor: he’s crazy, he’s cool, he’s washed up, he’s still got the goods. The sub-2 minute song threatens to do the impossible: make Will Smith genuinely interesting. While he hardly gives us his soul, the brittleness on show here is fascinating. He boasts about his wealth as though he’s heard a rumour he’s broke; he lists off Guy Richie’s Aladdin and the latest Men In Black as evidence he’s putting in work.
Alas - the self reflection starts and ends there. Will Smith is one of those mega celebrities whose efforts to manicure and protect his image only makes him seem weirder - your Tom Cruises, your Taylor Swifts, your Dwayne Johnsons. His years of box office dominance came in no small part because there was nothing really to dislike about him, even if he wasn’t immensely good at anything. His easy going charisma kept him a genuinely bankable movie star, and his back catalogue of feelgood bubblegum rap (and his groundbreaking Grammy, which he mentions several times here) made him forever the Fresh Prince. Then he smacked Chris Rock across the chops for making a shit joke about his wife and his reputation changed irreparably.
Let’s not mince words - The Slap is the key reason for any substantial interest in a new Will Smith joint, but the man just will not address it, will not allow us in. He makes one cheeky reference to it on track one, and that’s your lot. His plan is to regain our love not through confessionals but the power of rap.
And because it’s Will Smith and things always basically work out for Will Smith, sometimes it’s surprisingly effective. On “Beautiful Scars” he shows a surprising dexterity, switching up on a choppy, clubby beat. He sounds engaged, throwing his chest into boasts like “I'm a icon, somebody you could base your life on / That you should place your sights on, shot on Canons and Nikons / Turn the cameras and lights on, I been about the action.” “Hard Times” places Will right in his comfort zone, rapping over a Family Stone-esque old school funk beat, though he does get a little bogged down in a lengthy riff about being a magician.
Best of all is “Tantrum”, a collaboration with Joyner
Lucas, who first came to fame with a musical tribute to Smith. It’s
surprising how at home Will sounds over trap drums and stripped back
production. Smith and Lucas trade off lines on the last verse, the elder
statesman clearly energised by a collaborator for whom the duet is
clearly of no small importance. He even teases getting into the weeds on
some of his demons with the line “I got regrets, you heard about some
of them,” though that vague illusion is your lot.
Because it’s Will Smith returning to hip hop circa 2025,
though, there are some missteps. Early on, we get “Rave In The
Wasteland”, which cribs wholesale the vibe from, of all things, Yeezus-era
Kanye. Lyrically he’s no stranger to a groaner. He spits the punchline
“I wrote the code, I'm Mr. Smith,” but cannot help but explain himself,
excitedly continuing “‘Cause this is The Matrix!” He’s also got
a little bit of the Facebook auntie about him, with “Make It Look Easy”
especially given over almost entirely to uplifting aphorisms you might
feel inclined to share on social media. “Life throw punches, you got to
roll with it / Rivers start to rise, got to flow with it / I ain't
stopping at the sky, got no limits” - thanks, Will!
Smith is, obviously, under no obligation to share with us
the details of his personal life. Ultimately it’s none of our business.
But the record feels a bit like a tease. The title is tantamount to
clickbait, the intriguing opener offers far more than he’s willing to
deliver, and lines like “Personal life with my wife, mind your business,
it's complicated” are just plain weird. Don’t bring it up if you don’t
want to talk about it! Give us your thoughts on parents and their
perennial failure to understand!
Whether or not Smith has enough about him as an artist to deliver true musical self examination - a Here My Dear with more slapping - is another question, but on Based Like A True Story,
he’s not at all interested in doing so. It’s not a hilarious disaster,
it’s not a tabloid tell-all or, you know, actually good. It’s Smith’s
late career in a nutshell, just about getting over the line thanks to
his star wattage, and all the weirder for its smoothed-out polish.
