The Color Purple, 2023.
Directed by Blitz Bazawule.
Starring Fantasia Barrino, Taraji P. Henson, Danielle Brooks, Colman Domingo, Corey Hawkins, H.E.R., Halle Bailey, Phylicia Pearl Mpasi, Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, Ciara, Louis Gossett Jr., David Alan Grier, Deon Cole, Stephen Hill, Jon Batiste, Tiffany Elle Burgess, Aba Arthur, Terrence J. Smith, Tamela Mann, Adetinpo Thomas, Charles Green, Jamaal Avery Jr., and Jessie Jalee.
SYNOPSIS:
A decades-spanning tale of love and resilience and of one woman’s journey to independence. Celie faces many hardships in her life, but ultimately finds extraordinary strength and hope in the unbreakable bonds of sisterhood.
Much like Steven Spielberg’s adaptation of Alice Walker’s novel, newcomer Blitz Bazawule’s The Color Purple (an adaptation of the Broadway musical stemming from Marsha Norman’s musical book, with music and lyrics by Brenda Russell, Allee Willis, and Stephen Bray, given a new screenplay treatment by Marcus Gardley) touts an impressive ensemble with some revelatory performances stuck inside an excessively emotionally manipulative and cloying story of Black trauma and sisterhood.
The upside to this musical version is that the filmmakers streamline the story with more momentous pacing and graceful flow. There is still somewhat of an episodic structure, given the epic spans four decades, but here, there is a stronger sense of the unity that comes from the resiliency the three central Black women instill within one another. Considering the final shot, which is vastly different from the one seen in Steven Spielberg’s adaptation (the only other interpretation of the story I can compare the film to), the goal seems to emphasize not just that connection but family as a whole, rather than a fixation on two estranged sisters.
Even when there isn’t music and singing, The Color Purple moves and flows where Steven Spielberg’s film found itself sluggishly shifting perspective and seasonal chapters. However, despite being a musical, Blitz Bazawule’s version contains frustratingly flat cinematography (Dan Laustsen, who has never worked on a musical to my knowledge and seems to have struggled with making the scenes pop beyond color) and choreography that seems to have started and stopped with the idea of dancers moving around on screen but without much dynamism to go around.
Occasionally, there is a striking image during a song, such as workers lined up left and right of a performer, slamming the pickaxes into the dirt while she vocalizes and walks forward between them. Unfortunately, the majority is static, relying on vibrant and bright costume design to dazzle in place of this disappointing visualization. Musicals are challenging to craft, so Blitz Bazawule, being a first-time director, shows here.
Meanwhile, the songs often contain moving lyrics accentuated by booming musical instruments in the background. There are also quite a few songs that rise above merely being memorable and are catchy, such as Hell No, an empowering number that deals with standing up for oneself and pushing back against these unjust, nasty men. That song, in particular, is performed by Danielle Brooks’ Sofia, a real highlight of stepping into the shoes of a role once played by Oprah Winfrey, charging her way through scenes with sass, defiance, and a strong sense of self-worth. Knowing where the story goes, as soon as she appears on-screen, killing the role, one instantly anticipates seeing her play the opposite of those qualities, even if it will likely be sad.
The actors have no problem finding heart and emotional truths to these characters within an often unbearably sentimental narrative that traffics in nearly every piece of Black trauma one could think of, from fatherly incest to child abuse to rape to domestic violence and more, some of which is still somewhat handwaved away during the final 20 minutes underway a falsely rendered BS message of realizations and forgiveness. Credit goes to Colman Domingo for giving a believably terrorizing turn that instantly turns into a performative kinder mode once his singing crush enters the area to put on a show. Yes, he convincingly sells the character’s cruelty, but that doesn’t make the drama any less schmaltzy and ridiculous (almost as absurd as the silly pants he wears during the ending).
It’s safe to say that Steven Spielberg’s The Color Purple, a film that decided sitcom-level running bags of a son falling through a roof while doing construction fit the tone of something so bleak, had issues. Twisting things around into a musical can only fix and salvage so much, but also comes with its own set of problems, one of which being that, while Fantasia Barrino is a solid Celie (reprising the role from the Broadway musical), she is no Whoopi Goldberg, and I’m not referring only to acting talent.
Whenever “Mister” Albert (the previously mentioned Colman Domingo picking up the role played by Danny Glover in the original film) and Celie’s monstrous father decried her as “ugly,” it’s not that we as viewers agreed with them, but were able to acknowledge that Whoopi Goldberg did have a distinctly abnormal appearance that might have made her unwanted by this gross man in comparison to his musically inclined crush Shug Avery (now played by Taraji P. Henson.) Fantasia Barrino looks like a perfectly standard beautiful woman and doesn’t necessarily fit the role based on how other characters perceive her character’s appearance. Nevertheless, Fantasia Barrino has the necessary vocal pipes, and her Celie gets to sing a powerful number that should have any audience bursting into emotional applause, so perhaps it’s all a wash.
For those unfamiliar, The Color Purple follows Celie from roughly 14 years old (played at that stage by Phylicia Pearl Mpasi) when her incestuous father (who has already given away two of the babies she would have liked to raise) sells her off to the physically and sexually abusive Albert to be his servant and wife, cooking, cleaning, and raising his children from previous women. Her sister Nettie (Halle Bailey) runs off to join them, uncomfortable that their father has turned his repulsive sexual impulses toward her, only to be kicked out of the house and separated from Celie after also fighting back the sexual advances of Albert.
From there, the film flashes forward, following Celie as she befriends Sofia (Danielle Brooks), the firecracker wife of Albert’s son Harpo (Corey Hawkins), and Shug Avery herself, with a firmer queer touch. They learn from each other, stand together, and sing together in a story where a man who commands respect gradually loses every ounce of control he has, with these women blossoming into hardened, resilient, courageous women.
Like the flower, The Color Purple desperately wants to be loved; the excellent ensemble and catchy songs aren’t enough to earn it. This is just as offputtingly sappy as it was in 1985.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
