I Love Boosters review: Keke Palmer goes wild in Boots Rileys new sci-fi satire

No one is making movies like Boots Riley. The audacious American filmmaker who had critics raving about his mind-bending 2018 directorial debut Sorry to Bother You is back with I Love Boosters, an unreservedly anti-capitalist satire with a deluge of bonkers spectacle and fierce fashion. 

While filmmakers out of February's Berlin Film Festival aimed to avoid politics in promoting their work, SXSW kicked off with an opening night film that uses car chases, teleportation, stop-motion animated monsters, and a sprawling story about shoplifters to raise a big, bedazzled middle finger in protest to a capitalist society that treats workers' rights and self-expression like a luxury item. 

With a dynamic cast that includes Keke Palmer, Naomi Ackie, Taylour Paige, Poppy Liu, Eiza González, Will Poulter, Demi Moore, Don Cheadle, and LaKeith Stanfield, Riley delivers a sophomore effort that's outrageous, provocative, and really fucking fun. 

What's I Love Boosters all about? 

Written and directed by Boots Riley, I Love Boosters centers on a trio of "boosters," known as the Velvet Gang, who shoplift designer clothing from chic stores and resell them at discount prices. But each of these boosters has their own motivations for this risky version of entrepreneurship. For single-mom Sade (Ackie), it's all about the money, be it through boosting or a pyramid scheme called Friends Being Friendly. She's determined to buy her kids a better life, whatever the cost. 

Meanwhile, chipper Mariah (Paige) sees their group as "fashion-forward filanthropists [sic]" who give back to their community by making awesome gear affordable. (Yes, she knows philanthropy isn't spelled with an "f" — but "branding, though.") Then there's Corvette (Palmer), a fashionista who dreams of being a top designer like her idol, Christie Smith (Moore). This cunty-bobbed executive owns a series of shops that only sell one color of clothing per month, which creates an eye-popping production design of violently hued shops that early on give I Love Boosters a cartoonish impishness. 

Irate over the boosters hitting her stores, Smith declares war on the shoplifters that she calls "low-class urban bitches — all due respect to urban bitches." From there, the Velvet Gang steps up their game with the help of some new allies, who are less interested in reselling designer duds than in kick-starting a workers' rights movement against Smith's sweatshop industry. 

Along the way, they'll fold in not only a dizzying barrage of eye-popping outfits and fabulous wigs, but also an ultra sci-fi device that can deconstruct, transform, or teleport anything from clothes to people with a sloppy splurt of glimmering goo. And without spoilers, I can say that if you thought horse people in the climax of Sorry to Bother You were a weird treat, you'll be pleased with how supporting players like Don Cheadle, Jermaine Fowler, and Jason Ritter come into play in the chaotic climax. 

Keke Palmer is a shining star in I Love Boosters. 

Don't get it twisted. Palmer's had a storied career with scads of terrific performances that display her irresistible charisma and kinetic screen presence. But often in movies, she's the love interest (Good Fortune, The Pickup) or half of a double act (Nope, One Them Days). While I Love Boosters is about the Velvet Gang, there's no question Corvette is its protagonist, and Palmer is its star. 

Riley gives this dynamo room to move. From the opening frames, cinematographer Natasha Braier follows Corvette as she swans across a dance floor, cool and confident. Braier frames her close for shots of longing, like when Corvette crosses paths with a mystery man (Stanfield) who's so hot that his POV close-up from Corvette's perspective rattles in the frame. It's as if we can see her brain short-circuit as she takes in the Prince-like curls dangling down his face to his sexy, smudged eyeliner, his husky voice, and the smoldering expression that make this man a dangerous distraction to her booster mission.

But comedy lives in the wide shot. So in scenes of goofy physical stunts — like when Corvette tries to sneak out of Christie's penthouse, where the floor is at a 45-degree angle — Palmer full-body commits to the bit. Whether she's prat-falling on her face, running like a cartoon roadrunner, or escaping a boosting trip with a velvet tracksuit so stuffed with stolen goods it makes her look like a pink Stay Puft marshmallow man, she's giving comedy on the level of Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton, landing the physical business without a wink to the camera.

From there, costume designer Shirley Kurata builds Corvette's ambition to be a fashion designer through every single look. Palmer is alternatively wrapped in turquoise vinyl, Harajuku streetwear, '90s club kid gear, and highlighter yellow menswear. Some actors might be swallowed by so much look, but Palmer wears it all with ease, expressing Corvette's passion in each step. 

And it might go without saying, but no one hits a punchline like Palmer. It's not just that her take on Riley's wacky dialogue gets laughs. A one-liner in the film's final sequence earned roars of laughter that erupted into cheers and scattered applause. It's thrilling to see a movie give Palmer such a well-earned showcase — especially one that pits her onscreen against Moore, whose own weirdo showcase The Substance became a surprise award season contender. Could I Love Boosters have a similar rise? I'd like to live in that world. 

I Love Boosters is stuffed with laughs, twists, and a killer supporting cast. 

Palmer drives this wild ride, but every actor around her is fully on board for Riley's radical vision. Ackie has been on a tear of late, playing everything from an earnest cop (The Thursday Murder Club) to a kinky soldier (Mickey 17) to a caring best friend (Sorry, Baby) to a vengeance-seeking party girl (Blink Twice). Here, she's the tough love in the Velvet Gang, bringing intensity and determination that crackles opposite Palmer's dreaminess and Paige's comically consistent awe. Watching Paige playfully pluck at plush nipples on a big fluffy nude suit while the rest of the crew gets into a heated argument is a lesson in low-key comedy brilliance. 

A kinetic Poppy Liu gets in on the fun with a side quest full of color, real-world horror, and high-energy action. Eiza González seethes and sizzles as a union-minded shop girl, while Will Poulter is a pitch-perfect bastard as her posh, merciless manager. Stanfield thrives as the sultry eye candy, but he's at his best when that subplot gets utterly devilish. Then there's Moore, who gives a scathingly hilarious portrait of American wealth and entitlement. 

Moore spits monologues about art over commerce with such conviction that you might be tempted to believe Christie Smith's sales pitch. But Moore also delivers snarls that send a shiver. And numerous scenes in her preposterously slanted penthouse (perhaps inspired by actual ultra-expensive high rises that aren't on the level) expose her fashion exec as ridiculous. 

There are similarly sharp visual critiques of wage-gap politics, like Corvette and Sade prepping for their insanely short lunch break by placing their feet in starter's blocks, ready to literally race for sustenance. And with each over-the-top sight gag, Riley whips his audience into an elated surprise. He presents our world with its worst and best bits exaggerated — just like a certain MacGuffin in this movie. And through that, he urges us to reflect not only on the absurdities of our own society, but also on how we might dream up something better and bolder. 

I Love Boosters plays like a fever dream. Its narrative veers into tangents, with subplots buried under sensational set pieces and big ideas. It's undeniably messy, tossing in new characters, weird conspiracies, and an astonishing avalanche of unhinged imagery. But I wouldn't have it any other way. 

Riley isn't just rejecting the status quo of American capitalism with his films. He's rejecting the tidy boxes filmmakers are urged to put their stories into to make them more marketable, be they boxes of form or genre. Like the fashion in the film, Riley blends whatever fits his vision without apology. By delivering something this messy and marvelous, Riley makes a statement about the glory to be found outside the box. And make no mistake: I Love Boosters is glorious.

I Love Boosters was reviewed at SXSW. The film opens in theaters May 22.