In his two previous films, L.A. Confidential and Wonder Boys, director Curtis Hanson took different stabs at Americana, first with a quintessential film noir set in mythical 50s Hollywood, and then with a "wouldn't it be funny if this happened" tale about the stereotypically rigid world of academia. 8 Mile, which opened last Friday, is the most realistic of the three, an unsentimental depiction of Detroit's underground hip-hop scene. Hanson, though, doesn't make his directorial presence particularly apparent; he relies on conventional techniques which shift most of the attention to the film's lead actor.

Who is, by the way, Eminem, whose personal life, coincidentally, bears a striking resemblance to that of 8 Mile's protagonist, Jimmy Smith. Since Jimmy, who raps under the pseudonym Rabbit, is about as autobiographical a character as can be, it is nearly impossible to see the film without separating it from the public figure we have come to love or hate. Rabbit is in a way the fourth persona for the rapper, joining Eminem, Slim Shady, and Marshall Mathers.

If Eminem was not Eminem, this quasi-biography would not have been made. This is not to say, however, that Eminem does not deserve the praise he has received for his acting. Whenever he's before the camera, he never fails to command our attention or seem like a real person (for contrast, see DMX's attempts to act alongside Steven Segal). True, he is not playing Hamlet, he's playing a version of himself; nonetheless it is a thoroughly solid performance.

8 Mile opens with Rabbit looking in a public bathroom mirror listening to headphones and practicing stage moves before competing in an underground freestyling contest––quite an unexpected image of an entertainer who regularly performs for a sell-out crowd. We see Eminem here (and throughout the film) as a disciple of the art of freestlying, a side of him that we have not seen much of before, and an aspect of hip-hop that is not often considered in the notoriously ego-centric musical form.

The film is, at heart, the simple story of an artist struggling against his fucked-up life while trying to assimilate that experience into good creative material. With Eminem in the central role, however, this depiction of Jimmy as a "true artist" can come across as somewhat self-indulgent. This is not the same Eminem who rhymes the word "me" three out of four times in a single refrain (as he does in his single titled, coincidentally, "Without Me"), but one must wonder if there isn't any agenda in depicting himself so humbly.

One of 8 Mile's most notable features is its depiction of freestyling as both an art form and a ruthless combat. Rabbit lives in the underground hip-hop scene, where distinct gangs of freestylers are willing and eager to use violence to complement the verbal abuse they dish out to each other. Here, there is no ignominy like being torn down by one's freestyling opponent, and everybody's personal life is fair game for rhyming fodder. In the opening sequence, Rabbit is rendered speechless by his opponent from the cross-town rival gang, and he has to live with this shame throughout the film until he reluctantly returns to the same stage and delivers three rounds of some of the most bad-ass freestyling most likely ever captured on film. The climactic battle has the same weight and excitement as any final showdown in a martial arts film or western gun-slinging shoot-em-up.

In between these two battles, is, of course, Rabbit's life. With no place to live at the beginning of the film, he returns to his trailer-park roots, where Kim Basinger delivers the film's other fine performance as the quintessential trailer-trash mom, an alcoholic dating a high-school classmate of Rabbit's (Eminem's real mother has sued him for defamation of character).

When Rabbit is not at home, two friends of his friends vie for promoting rights to him, making quasi-false promises about being able to get him studio time (remember, Eminem's, I mean Rabbit's reasons for wanting to make an album all stem from his artistic integrity). At the same time, Rabbit pursues the waiting-for-her-breakthrough model Alex, whose interest in Rabbit is put into question when Rabbit sees her sleeping with one of his would-be-promoters. This leads to Rabbit beating his friend's ass, Rabbit getting his ass beat by his cross-town rivals, and ultimately, material for other freestylers to use against him.

At times, the film goes to rather conspicuous lengths to make Rabbit's character more ambivalent, most noticeably when gently caring for his little sister within seconds of getting his ass beat by the his hip-hop enemies, when beating up his mom's boyfriend, and when taking care of his hammered mom.

But ambivalence has been part of the key to Eminem's success. Beneath the shock-value of his lyrics, his honesty hints at something worthwhile, whatever that may be.

Yes, he disowns his mother and his wife attempted suicide as a result of being publicly slandered by him, but we also know how much he cares about his daughter. We know a lot about him, and in 8 Mile, Eminem is hardly ever offscreen, managing to keep our eyes fixed with every "I'm not asking for any well-deserved pity, I'm uniquely pissed off at the world" expression on his face.