At the end of “In Whose Name?” Nico Ballesteros-Directed documentary that extends over six years of Kanye WestLife, the rapper breaks from the story to confront the challenges of gathering the film. “We don’t know if we glued the story together,” West says in a voiceover. “If you document every almost watchful moment and sometimes sleeping moments in my life and you do not understand the review, the world will not understand the review. It will only look crazy or it will be an antique to the next antique, how the media word it.”
However, there is not much of a review for “in whose name?”, Other than its linearity. The film tries to thread more than 3,000 hours of images collected between 2018 and 2024 to an unclear depiction of West, a multi -year lightning bar for controversy that usually triggered by its own hand. On the face, the doctor maintains his momentum based only on access – one may wonder why Ballesteros, who was 18 years old when he started filming, got to shadow him – but the movie as a whole is as boring and frustrating as West himself, a figure that is so deeply confident in his opinions but still very unnoticed.
West explains in advance that “in whose name?” Is a movie about mental health, and it’s like a general framework. He explains that he has been of his medicines for months and finally feels like himself. But what “in whose name?” Communicates most is that West is a public person who is so conditioned by his celebrity that you leave questioning whether he is Victor Frankenstein or the monster. Throughout the film, he is surrounded by artists and political testimonials who consistently encodes his every whim (Chris Rock, Pharrell Williams, Drake and David Letterman, to name a few). It is clear that his celebrity is a tool that exercises power over anyone in his orbit and attracts those who are looking for proximity to his fame or, more cynically, tries to lead it.
Very few have the gum to shoot back on you, which he asks to be called. And it is in the moments that he is on his most human and the film succeeds. Swizz Beatz punishes west to wear a custom magazine during a studio session, while Michael Che confronts him behind the stage on a “Saturday night live” tape on comments he made on the show. “It was fucked,” says Che. “Why should you call me if I don’t have the chance to say anything to myself?” West stutter when responding before the consequence, a long -term associated, cuts in to facilitate the voltage. (Cue a “SNL” producer that asks for images not to be used because “it would be helpful to us.”)
Those who shoot back on the west do not always meet smoothness and several moments in “In whose name?” Is really shocking when he loses control. Early on, he releases a complete tire against Kris Jenner to come back on his medication and left her in tears. In Uganda, his cousin asks him not to raise politicians Bobi Wine. “Fuck you!” He suddenly screams. When she stands up to leave, he commands her to lean down and she forces – a speaking dynamic. “You try to tell me what to do. You try to change my mind. None of you can change! Mine!” He blasts and stomps his feet with each word for emphasis.
Kim Kardashian, his now ex-wife, is a crucial figure in founding west on his most unbound and comes across as the most rational figure in the film or his life. She takes the mood in steps, but we gradually see her. (Their divorce is mentioned in passing.) In Uganda she sits next to West’s cousin after his outbreak and exposure tears with a tissue. “At some point it is a reality that people say no. People say no to me daily and I’m not just starting to scream and throw a rage. It’s just not normal.” “But that’s my personality!” he says. She replies: “But your personality was not like this a few years ago!”
“In whose name?” is analyzed over three actions and an epilogue. It follows west along all the milestones that we have seen as a gabbing in general, with invisible pieces peppered in. We look at West visiting the White House to meet President Donald Trump, and are interested in structured, wonderful pictures of his Sunday services. Ballesteros is on hand for when West joins Joel Osten on stage on a megachurch and performs in a prison. The camera rolls when the west is on a futuristic bed with Elon Musk, difficult to compare the relationship of the relationship.
It is then inevitable that many of the pictures in the documentary have already seen from the public. Even an intimate moment where West hires Kenny G to perform in a room Filt with roses on Valentine’s Day – previously shown on social media – offers only another angle. For anyone who has followed west for several years, there is not much revelation. Those who try to understand erraticism in his behavior, to find some intention grain, remain with long diatribes and self -reinforcing explanations that you are starting to match. At one point, he tells a room full of architects, “I’m Picasso”, and it’s hard not to meet it with a shoulder.
At the end of “In whose name?”, West has dropped his goodwill. AEG and Live Nation will not offer him a tour. Las Vegas’ sphere will not return their calls. And yet he is “almost like a masochist.” He asks, should he have blown up his business with the gap and adidas? The answer, he says, is yes. It is a crazy but still fitting end to a movie about a figure that is consumed in his own hubris that he cannot see through it. “In whose name?”, Consequently, the same fate cannot be avoided.
