IT MAY BE called the San Francisco Black Film Festival, but it's the East Bay that takes center stage, with a pair of new docs training the spotlight on two talents immeasurably shaped by Oakland.

The colorful life of veteran rapper Too $hort makes for engaging subject matter in Life Is...The Life and Times of Todd Shaw, directed by Renee Moncada-McElroy and exec produced by Dwayne Wiggins (Tony! Toni! Toné!). Music journalists, showbiz associates (including E-40 and Chuck D), friends, former friends, family members, and the man himself all get a chance to chime in, filling in the early years and eventual rise to stardom. Though performance footage, album covers, and a fair amount of rump-shaking music video clips are used to good effect, it's Too $hort's bare-bones, beats-and-rhymes music itself – especially the cuts off his prophetically titled 1985 debut, Don't Stop Rappin' – that illustrates most dramatically how much the sound of hip-hop has changed in two decades. And it's no question Too $hort made quite an impact over the years: less-than-flattering assessments of "beeeyitches" aside, his lyrical allegiance to his home town ("I'll just tell Oakland's story," Too $hort recalls deciding from the start) brought pride to hometown fans and proved rap was a phenomenon not limited to New York and Los Angeles.

Stylewise, Life Is plays like a more homespun Behind the Music (though, thankfully, lacking overwritten narration), with inconsistent production values causing the occasional muffled interview. And anyone expecting an in-depth look at Too $hort the private person, will have to make do with what's essentially just a professional overview. Still, the filmmakers clearly have genuine affection and reverence for their charismatic subject.

At once less uplifting, more gritty, and noticeably made with the commercial polish of a bigger budget, Hooked: The Legend of Demetrius 'Hook' Mitchell also tells the story of big dreams born in Oakland. But while Too $hort's skills earned him a record contract and a long career doing what he loves, tarnished basketball star "Hook" Mitchell is currently serving time for armed robbery. Folks outside the Bay Area may have never heard of Mitchell, but his name rolls easily from the tongues of NBA stars Gary Payton, Jason Kidd, and Brian Shaw, interviewed in Michael Skolnik and William O'Neill's film. They knew him growing up, and all agree, "He was better than me." He was only five foot nine, but he was king of the slam dunk, effortlessly launching himself through the air toward the hoop, clearing any obstacles placed in his path. (This ability is proved via some rather remarkable home movies, played in slo-mo to emphasize that, yes, he really is leaping over the top of that Volkswagen.) It was a unanimous belief, shared among coaches, scouts, and other players, that with Mitchell's gifts on the court, a prosperous run in the pros would have been a given – if street life hadn't pulled him in.

Without parents, Hook's primary guidance came from neighborhood hustlers who were eager to take advantage of his financial desperation. The high school basketball hero's life was soon out of control: he came high to games and accepted a gram of coke from local dealers for every dunk he made. Though he never graduated high school, fudged transcripts allowed him a few more glory years playing community college ball. The crisply edited Hooked emphasizes the sadness of Mitchell's situation by including footage of Kidd's and Payton's college success and subsequent selections as high picks in the NBA draft. It's made clear that Mitchell's friends did try to reach out to him, but as one points out, "You can only help people so much." A couple of particularly depressing anecdotes related by Shaw – a promising basketball-camp job ruined when Mitchell stole equipment on the first day, a halftime dunk contest at an NBA charity game gone horribly awry – speak volumes about the power of Mitchell's addictions. Most poignantly, a now clean and sober Mitchell is interviewed in jail; at 34 years old, he looks a decade older, his hoop dreams exchanged for being the best player in the prison yard. "My life was a waste," he admits. "I should have been in the NBA." A more convincing antidrug argument could scarcely be made.

Other programs in this year's San Francisco Black Film Festival – its fifth incarnation – range from narratives featuring well-known stars (including the opening night film, Everything's Jake, which stars Ernie Hudson as a loquacious New York City homeless man) to a wide selection of shorts, many by local filmmakers. Also on tap: Billy Dee "Lando Calrissian" Williams claims this year's Pioneer Award; workshops on acting, digital video-making, and screenwriting; and the second Urban Kidz Festival, a minifest of animated and live-action works geared toward film fans ages 5 to 12. (Cheryl Eddy)