Last night, I had the pleasure of attending the premiere of Love, Loyalty, & Death at the Neon Theater in downtown Dayton—an incredible film by our city’s own Jason DBKS Hampton.
Jason’s work never disappoints. For those who aren’t familiar, he has a growing collection of films on Tubi that beautifully showcase the heart of Dayton—its people, its places, and the spirit that makes our community so special. That’s what I love most about his storytelling: it feels personal, authentic, and deeply rooted in the city we call home.
Dayton is overflowing with talent, and one of the things I admire most about Jason’s films is how he creates space for others to shine. His work doesn’t just tell stories—it uplifts local artists, actors, and creatives by giving them a platform to showcase their gifts. It’s truly inspiring to see familiar faces—people we grew up with or looked up to—on the screen.
Jason took on the role of the main character and the film’s central villain, Deon, delivering a gripping performance, anchoring the story with a performance that’s both chilling and deeply human.. As the title of the movie suggest, it entails the concepts of love, loyalty, and death that much reminded me of how I perceived the popular movie Scarface, echoing the emotional weight and moral complexity of Scarface.
Both stories navigate the tension between strength and power. But let’s be clear: strength and power are not the same. Strength is fortitude. Stability. Endurance. It’s defined as “the capacity of an object or substance to withstand great force or pressure.” Power, on the other hand, consumes. It can breed greed, selfishness, and control. It’s the shadow side of ambition.
Deon and Scarface were labeled villains by society, but in truth, they were products of their environments—shaped by exposure, trauma, and the choices available to them. Their pursuit of money wasn’t just greed; it was a desperate attempt to fortify themselves in a world that had offered little protection.
Loyalty plays a central role in the film’s emotional architecture. Deon is loyal to no one but himself. He manipulates relationships for personal gain, showing mercy to no one—no family, no friends, not even children. Except for one: his son. In a rare moment of vulnerability, Deon tells his son he doesn’t want him to grow up to be like him—a robber, a killer, a betrayer. That scene cracked open the hardened shell of his character, revealing a man haunted by his past and desperate to break the cycle.
We learn that Deon, like his father, was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. His father was abusive to both Deon and his mother. The film doesn’t just show us violence—it shows us the roots of it. It reveals how generational trauma and untreated mental health issues can shape destiny. Deon's decision to distance himself from his son and the child’s mother wasn’t abandonment—it was protection. A tragic attempt to shield them from the path he couldn’t escape.
In the end, Deon meets a fated end. He burns too many bridges, crosses too many lines, and it all catches up to him. But the most powerful twist? Deon wasn’t the biggest villain after all. The final scenes unravel that truth in a way that’s both brilliant and devastating.
Jason DBKS Hampton’s films are more than entertainment—they’re mirrors. Beneath the surface of death, drugs, and violence lie deeper truths about loyalty, love, trauma, and the forces that shape who we become. His storytelling is raw, honest, and thought-provoking.
When this film becomes available, don’t just watch it—witness it. And more importantly, support the voices of our city. Support the storytellers who illuminate our streets with truth, who transform what outsiders may call “ugly” into the raw beauty that fuels our spirit. These are the artists who reveal the soul of our community—the ones who remind us that what makes us different is exactly what makes us powerful.
Great job, Jason!
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