"The Color Purple"

  ☆☆½ 

Because it's based on the Broadway production, the suggestion is that this is the first time The Color Purple has been adapted as a film musical, but that ignores so much of what Steven Spielberg did with his 1985 movie, which I'd argue is one of his most under-appreciated und unfairly criticized works.

The earlier film not only had a masterful, soaring score by Quincy Jones, it also featured multiple songs that were integral to the plot: "Makidada," the clapping song sung by Celie and her sister Nettie; the spiritual "Maybe God Is Trying to Tell You Something"; and the Oscar-nominated "Miss Celie's Blues." In all, The Color Purple featured more than two hours of music—nearly the entire film contains some musical component.

But now here's a version of The Color Purple that features people breaking out into song and dance in sometimes incongruous ways that interrupt the action and often detract from the dramatic thrust of the story. Instead of using music, this new version of The Color Purple from director Blitz Bazawule and a host of producers (including Spielberg and Oprah Winfrey) uncomfortably inserts bland and unmemorable songs into an already packed story. The unfortunate result is that in this version, it's hard to understand much about Celie's plight except what we already know having seen the previous version.

It's not the fault of the charismatic performers. Celie is brought to life both by Phylicia Pearl Mpasi as a young woman and Fantasia Barrino as an adult. They're both determined to find the soul of this quiet, tortured, beaten, scared woman, but it's a hard thing to do when the film insists on having them burst out into mostly upbeat songs every few minutes.

As in Alice Walker's 1982 novel and Spielberg's film, Celie's story plays out against a sweeping backdrop and is peopled with memorable women: her sister, Nettie (Halle Bailey and Ciara); the indomitable Sofia (Danielle Brooks, who steals the show); and Shug Avery (Taraji P. Henson). Each of these women undergoes a dramatic evolution, but because this version of The Color Purple needs to accommodate all those songs, most of the change is only hinted at.

Spielberg's version was often criticized because of its artful production design, its tentative approach to the central, revelatory sexual relationship between Celie and Shug; and its insistence on redemption for Mister, Celie's abusive husband, here played by Colman Domingo. Those perceived faults are only heightened in Bazawule's adaptation, which is largely a candy-colored confection that feels as antiseptic as a Broadway stage. While Celie and Shug sorta-kinda end up in bed together this time, this film is even less certain of what the relationship means for Celie. Worse, Mister is given total forgiveness, making lighthearted, tender jokes with Celie in the final scene.

It all fits together uncomfortably, unlike Spielberg's music-infused film. It's almost unfair to compare any director's efforts with Spielberg, whose version of this story not only retained much of Walker's epistolary style through voice-over narration that is sorely missed here. What Spielberg could say with one wordless shot or a brilliant composition feels forced and labored here. It's not for lack of trying by the talented cast, and there's no doubt that much of this new version has a sumptuous, well-designed look.

But it labors under the extra burden of its heavily staged production numbers. To see The Color Purple at its musical best, rewatch the Spielberg version. This new adaptation feels too clean, too careful and too forced to get at the hard and sometimes bitter truth at the heart of this difficult, essential story.

Viewed January 5, 2024 — AMC Topanga 12

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