That's certainly true, but their low quality has only raised expectations higher than usual for Lee's 12th film, appropriately titled He Got Game. Not only does it mark the screen reunion of Lee and Denzel Washington--who previously starred in Lee's erratic but intriguing Mo' Better Blues and his spectacular Malcolm X--it marks a long-awaited exposé/overview of basketball by a director whose passion for the game is renowned.

Nevertheless, while He Got Game proves enjoyable, at times visually delightful, and boasts a wonderful soundtrack that ambitiously juxtaposes fresh hip-hop from Public Enemy with classical fare from Aaron Copland, it's among Spike Lee's least arresting and memorable ventures. It doesn't have the intensity and thematic focus that made Do the Right Thing and Malcolm X modern classics.

He Got Game focuses on a week in the life of Jesus Shuttlesworth, supposedly the nation's hottest high-school basketball prospect. Jesus, nicely played by Milwaukee Bucks guard Ray Allen in his acting debut, has to decide whether to take the instant riches available by going pro, or whether to opt for college. If he chooses school, he must also determine where he will matriculate--which is where his father, Jake, played by Washington, comes in.

Jake has been in prison nearly seven years, jailed for an accidental killing that tore the Shuttlesworth family apart. The son and father have been estranged ever since, but the warden offers Jake a chance for early release. All he must do is get his son to sign a letter of intent with the governor's alma mater before the week is out. The remainder of the film covers the tense reunion between father and son, as the pressure mounts on Jesus to pick a school.

In the edgy confrontations between Jake and Jesus, Lee captures the conflict inherent in father-son relationships. But He Got Game works best depicting the ugly side of "big-time" college athletics, especially the overwhelming temptations of cash and flesh used to dazzle prospects. Sports agents, rival coaches, and potential teammates try to appeal to Jesus' wallet, his family, his ego--even his libido. Not all these scenes are successful, however. Even though an orgy sequence with Jesus and some white groupies at a prospective college apparently has some basis in fact, Lee's blatant handling is offensive and borderline racist.

What He Got Game lacks, surprisingly, is a clear or compelling point of view toward the exploitation of athletes. Lee loves basketball so much he's reluctant to condemn a process that has rewarded a handful of African Americans while turning several of the country's finest academic institutions into pseudo minor leagues for the NBA. Lee doesn't evaluate, either directly or by implication, the negative impact on the black community caused by years of overemphasis on athletic stardom over academic achievement. The presence of such coaching superstars as Georgetown's John Thompson, Temple's John Chaney, and Kansas' Roy Williams--along with super-shill commentator Dick Vitale and not-so-subtle product placements from Nike et al.--attests to a tacit endorsement of a fundamentally flawed system.

While Lee's past films have included prickly verbal debates on sensitive issues like color conflict among blacks or integration vs. nationalism, the discussions here of interracial sex and community conflict seem more like tacked-on asides. Indeed, the movie's sole controversy comes from a subplot that contributes little to the film's main theme: Jake's fleeting affair with a white hooker (Milla Jovovich).

Actually, in this regard, Lee has shown more courage than many of his predecessors. Unlike the directors of The Pelican Brief and Virtuosity, Lee didn't snip out love scenes between Washington and a white costar, causing some African American viewers to respond by booing loudly and cursing at the screen. Sadly, we're still at a point in American cinematic history where there are so few African American male stars that black audiences are upset at seeing a community icon in bed with a white female, no matter the motivation or identity of the director.

Apart from Washington and Allen, He Got Game boasts many superior performances, among them Rosario Dawson as Jesus' girlfriend, Bill Nunn as his greedy uncle, Jim Brown as a cynical parole officer, and Will Harper as Jake's confidant, Booger. But the disappointing ending, like the movie, raises more questions than it resolves. Jesus' decision comes out of nowhere, and the director's personal feelings are uncharacteristically absent.

Despite flashes of Lee's usual brilliance, He Got Game is ultimately a minor work from a director who has seldom failed to stir emotions. He Got Game won't anger or incite audiences the way Jungle Fever or Do the Right Thing did: It lacks their fire and their urgent messages. That it's still vastly preferable to the celluloid nonsense masquerading as African American film nowadays speaks volumes about the industry and the nation's cultural priorities.