Having the occasion to spend most of my days with teenagers, I found Louder Than A Bomb completely charming. Documenting the Chicago youth slam poetry competition of the same name, directors Jon Siskel and Greg Jacobs introduce us to four extraordinary young authors and a exciting Chicago art community. Louder Than a Bomb excels by following the teens, listening to their poetry, and probing the sources of their powerful verses. The directors rightly drop us into this world, letting us hear the powerful verses and see students and teachers learn through collaboration. As a hometown girl it was thrilling to watch these new voices bursting out to tell vital stories of loss, hope, and identity.
The film invests us early in the teams showing how each school prepares for the competition. We get the closest look at Steinmetz Academic Centre, a public school on the west side of Chicago. The unexpected winners of last year's tournament, the Steinmetz students are hungry for another victory and the recognition their community so rarely receives. Headed by Lamar, an electrifying poet and exacting leader, the Steinmetz team goes through fits of inspiration and silliness with Lamar begging his teammates to write. The film seems to be rooting for Steinmetz as underdogs with a title to defend; yet their poetry elicits our respect. Lamar delivers a sophisticated and risky piece about gun violence, putting himself in the mind of a school shooter. As a team, Steinmetz delivers targeted and emotional social commentary with the piece "Counting Graves." Through this poem, these students wrest us into the mind of a teen grieving his mother and brother murdered in a drive-by intended for him. This piece, more than any other, embodies the purpose and possibilities of slam poetry and may be the best sequence in the film.
Louder Than A Bomb respects this high school competition as a true community of artists. The students become fans of each other's work, quoting their favorite lines and paying homage to each other in poems. It gets a little misty when Adam Gottlieb's team calls Steinmetz an inspiration to the entire community in their final poem. Adam, the most enthusiastic and loving teenager alive, was a pleasure to meet through the film. He delivers a strong personal and historical reflection in a solo piece called "Maxwell Street." His deep analysis of his Jewish heritage combined with affection for his grandmother was wonderful to watch. We can see his love for the competition as he attends every battle and cheers every poet. Gottlieb is the kind of student you dream of teaching not because of his congeniality, but his capacity to teach and bolster others.
I would say Louder Than a Bomb is mandatory viewing for local audiences. It highlights a vibrant and vital Chicago institution that simply provides the microphone for Chicago teens to tell their stories and join a truly diverse community. After seeing the film, I made a mental note to stop by Columbia College for next year's contests. For those outside of Chicago, the film remains accessible by focusing on these emerging artists, their poetry, and the stories between the verses.