Ice Cube Muslim?

En route to Ice Cube's hotel, I had his 1992 album The Predator on my Walkman. It made a strange accompaniment to the stroll down Park Lane. Then again, Ice Cube records weren't made for trips to the Dorchester.

They were made for Compton, Inglewood, Long Beach and South Central. And, much to the chagrin of countless suburban (read white) US parents, for well-appointed teenage bedrooms from Maine to the Pacific.

En route to Ice Cube's hotel, I had his 1992 album The Predator on my Walkman. It made a strange accompaniment to the stroll down Park Lane. Then again, Ice Cube records weren't made for trips to the Dorchester. They were made for Compton, Inglewood, Long Beach and South Central. And, much to the chagrin of countless suburban (read white) US parents, for well-appointed teenage bedrooms from Maine to the Pacific.

In fact, he's barely shaken hands before he's on to his role in Three Kings, indie luminary David O Russell's inspired account of a gaggle of US troops causing havoc amid the detritus of the Gulf War. Stretching out in his seat, he admits his involvement owed less to his enthusiasm for Russell's previous films, Spanking the Monkey and Flirting With Disaster (neither of which he's seen), than for sharing agents with co-star George Clooney. "And even then," he explains, "I wasn't sure about it. Wasn't sure at all. Because it's offbeat, it's not your typical... movie. But once David O Russell explained what he wanted to make then, yeah, I was cool with it."

It's hardly surprising: the stylish absurdity of Three Kings provides him with easily his best screen vehicle since his debut, John Singleton's mordant 1989 gang drama, Boyz N The Hood (although, to be honest, the likes of Anaconda don't offer much competition). The only irony comes from his playing a grunt. After all, when George Bush was dropping smart bombs on Baghdad, Ice Cube was Amerikkka's Most Wanted; the title of his first solo album proved prophetic when his name subsequently appeared on a far-right death list.

He beams serenely at the memory. "You know, it's funny, 'cause if you asked me back in '91 would I ever be in a movie as a soldier, a US soldier, I'd have said get the hell out of here. Hell no! But that's what I like about the film - we showed there were a lot of people on both sides who really didn't want to be there."

Indeed, other than its freewheeling comic swagger, Three Kings' most startling aspect is its willingness to point the finger at both Saddam and the White House. Presumably that cold-eyed pragmatism appealed to him? "Oh yeah," he responds. "Of course. I love any time you can enlighten people to mistakes, that's how I started my career. It definitely turned me on. Plus I like the interaction of the soldiers and the Shi'ite Muslims."

As he's raised the subject, I ask whether - having converted in the early 90s - he's still Muslim himself. "Yeah. Oh yeah." And still involved with the Nation of Islam, the militant faction he once called "the best place for any young black male"? This time he hesitates. "Ah, when you say involved with the Nation, it's tricky. I never was in the Nation of Islam... I mean, what I call myself is a natural Muslim, 'cause it's just me and God. You know, going to the mosque, the ritual and the tradition, it's just not in me to do. So I don't do it."

Although he's entirely gracious about it, something in his manner suggests now isn't the time to go into the small print of his relationship with Islam. Instead, we turn to his status as an ascendant multimedia potentate. Describing his movie career as "opportunistic", he happily admits the film gigs are part of a bigger game plan. For example, having seen his 1998 directorial debut - the ambitious if confused The Players Club - perform disappointingly, a follow-up depends on "getting my name a little bigger through acting, so next time I direct, it'll come out a little stronger".

Then there's Cubevision, the film production company recently established to accessorise his existing music set-up, Street Knowledge. "Cubevision is there to develop the shit that other people are shaky on," he muses. "Raw shit, ideas from the street. When people see the Cubevision logo, they should know it's something good, something worth checking out."

What it also does, of course, is grant him autonomy from the studios. Prior to The Players Club, three of his pitches were unceremoniously bounced around Hollywood's executive suites before disappearing over the horizon. He nods enthusiastically.

"And now I would never rely on the studio system. Because their system is too goddamn fickle. Executives get fired, executives get hired, and you don't even know if your guy is gonna be there when the movie's done. Or is another cat gonna come in and say 'What? I don't want this'? Man, I went through that, and I vowed I'd never do it again. That's why I'm intent on bringing my own shit into the movie house."

Which leads on to Next Friday (the sequel, unsurprisingly, to 1995's Friday), his other imminent release, in which he takes on the triple-header role of producer, screenwriter and star. It's interesting for three reasons. The first lies in the film's temperament: a relentlessly crass but wholly congenial comedy - wherein the leading man returns as uber-homie Craig, now ensconced in the SoCal suburbs - whose prevailing themes (family is good, bullies get their comeuppance) could have come straight out of the Eisenhower 1950s.

It may be enveloped in a haze of blunt smoke, but that's about its only connection with the casually atavistic world of Boyz N The Hood. "Well," he shrugs, "that's the many faces of Ice Cube. I mean, people know me as one way, hardcore, a bad motherfucker, and that's cool. But the fans wanted this and you got to give the fans what they want. Or you're just playing into the hands of the doubters."

The second interesting feature of the film, meanwhile, is its status as the "surprise" box office hit of 2000 thus far: a surprise because precious few movies become America's biggest draw with as little media hubbub as Next Friday. What attention it did receive largely focused on an opening weekend shooting at the Rolling Hills Plaza, Torrance, California.

Understandably, Ice Cube, or O'Shea Jackson as he once was, allows himself a sly smile at the thought of the entertainment machine's wrongfooting by his film. "Right, 'cause they thought it was just a lightweight black comedy. And I knew that, both from the outside and from inside the studio. They thought, Oh, here's this nice little black movie, we'll give him a few screens and see what it do. And to come out like it did and make $19m first weekend, I mean that ain't no fuckin' joke, man. So now the business know all about my nice little black movie."

And the third interesting thing about Next Friday? Well, that's on the soundtrack: a classic slab of bellicose West Coast hip-hop, it's called Chin Check and it marks the return of NWA, the hugely influential group Ice Cube quit in 1989 over an exponentially bitter business dispute; without him, NWA stumbled to a halt two years and one shoddy album later.

Now, however, a summer stadium tour and more recording await, with the peerlessly nasal Snoop Doggy Dogg drafted in to replace the late Eazy E. Rumours of Eminem's involvement prove exaggerated, which sadly ends the idea of a white kid from Detroit becoming a Nigga Wit' Attitude.

Strangely, when I mention the song, he's almost apologetic, declaring it to have been recorded in a hurry and, moreover, "just an appetiser". Then the self-assurance re-enters his voice: " 'Cause everyone knows that the album's gonna be the big record."

It will, both because of the nostalgia invoked by the memory of their brutally anthemic debut, Straight Outta Compton, and their post-split legacy (chiefly the solo work of Cube and fellow member Dr Dre, inspiration for rap's pre-eminent late 90s G-Funk sound). When he refers to his group as"hip-hop royalty", it doesn't come across as merely the hyperbole of a man with something to sell.

But why, when none of the interested parties can need the money, get back together now? "We were tired of talking about it," comes the response. "For years, every time we'd see each other we'd be like 'You know what we should do? You know what we should do? We should do an NWA record.' So finally it gets to the point where it's like, 'OK, meet me at the studio on Wednesday.' "

It all sounds so simple. Yet he must be aware there's a lot of baggage involved: the shadow cast by Eazy's Aids-related death, their involvement with deeply unsavoury music mogul (and current resident of the federal California Men's Colony) Suge Knight, the spat over money still vexatious enough for Cube to declare "fuck [former manager] Jerry Heller" on Chin Check...

"Aw no, that doesn't bother me," he replies. "History is history, there's no point trying to get away from that. So, yeah, we got baggage, but all we can do now is put together an album that's greater than anybody's expectations. Because when it's done, it's got to be the best record out there."

Which is a bold ambition for a group whose infamous teenage pronouncement that "life ain't nothing but bitches and money" seems somewhat at odds with the current reality of its members' lives as confirmed family men. To wit, the one time Cube gets genuinely excited during this interview is when he talks about flying home for his daughter's sixth birthday party. "Yeah," he concedes, "our lifestyles have slowed down, we got money and families. But the group is like a razor blade, you know what I'm saying? It's bigger than our personal lives. And you gotta keep it sharp. You can't let it get dulled up."

He makes a point of maintaining eye contact as he says this. Despite the movies, despite the kids' birthday parties, and despite the make-up artist, you sense it might be a while yet before he decides to become the Nigga Ya Love To Love.

"It's like sports," he remarks. "The rookies get the attention, and it's the veterans who come through and win the championships, when the rookie's at home watching on TV."

He leans back in his chair, timing the punchline. "And I play for the championships."