Artwork by Michael DiMilo
Less than the Sum of Its Parts: Review of The Color Purple
The last time I was in New York City, in 2006, we were lucky enough to score tickets to see The Color Purple. Being the curmudgeon I am, I am typically skeptical of Broadway revivals of movies, television shows, or classic musicals, but I was pleasantly surprised—even amazed—at the musical rendition of the Alice Walker classic novel. It was also one of the few times we went to a play where the majority of the audience dressed the part. Suits, ties, evening gowns, even tuxedoes were in evidence. Apparently, the usual t-shirt clad crew and ubiquitous warm-up suit crowd had gone to the Disney shows instead. Audience members showing respect for the venue and the artists was a nice throwback.
But I digress. The Color Purple the musical was an outstanding production. While the tone was different from Steven Spielberg’s film masterpiece, it was just as heartfelt and just as inspiring. The tale of a young black woman rising up against all odds in the face of lifelong racial and misogynistic oppression to find love and establish herself as a human being never gets old. Until now.
The 2023 film remake of The Color Purple boasts an all-star production team and cast. Oprah Winfrey, Quincy Jones, Steven Spielberg headline the production team while Colman Domingo, Taraji P. Henson, Fantasia Barrino, and Danielle Brooks spearhead a stellar cast. The choreography, singing, and production design is beautiful. Yet, in this case, the whole somehow seems to be less than the sum of its parts.
The story centers on Celie, a black woman, played as a girl by Phylicia Pear Mpasi and as a woman by Fantasia Barrino, who also portrayed herin the Broadway production. As a young girl, Celie has been repeatedly abused by her father. As a result, she bears two children which he takes away from her. Celie’s only light is her sister Nettie (Halle Bailey) who cares for her, plays with her, and even teaches her to read. At an early age, Celie is given away to Albert “Mister” Johnson (Colman Domingo) to be his wife and take care of his three children. Celie soon finds out that Mister is just as abusive as her father. He beats and rapes Celie whenever he pleases and attempts to rape Nettie when she comes to stay with Celie. When Nettie refuses his advances, Mister kicks her out of the house and threatens to kill her. Nettie promises to write her sister every day. Celie, for all intents and purposes, is left alone.
Years pass and Mister’s son Harpo (Corey Hawkins) brings home the feisty Sofia (Danielle Brooks) and tells his father he wants to marry her. Mister refuses, seeing that Sofia is pregnant, and that the child is not Harpo’s. The two marry anyway but soon run into problems. Sofia leaves and Harpo turns the house he was building for them into a juke joint.
News comes that famous singer Shug (Taraji P. Henson) is coming to town, and the entire community—in an outstanding dance sequence—anticipates her arrival. Shug arrives drunk and is welcomed by Mister, who obviously has been smitten by her for some time. Celie is intrigued by this wild woman, and they soon form a intimate relationship which turns into a lasting friendship. Shug seeks to reconcile with her pastor father Reverend Samuel Avery (David Alan Grier) who has rejected her as a sinner, but he wants nothing do with her.
By accident, Shug receives a letter addressed to Celie. It is from Nettie who is living in Africa with Celie’s two children. It turns out that Mister has been hiding Nettie’s letters for years. Furious, Celie, accompanied by Shug and her new husband (John Batiste) leaves Mister, cursing him in the process. When Celie’s father dies, she inherits his store and opens her line of one-size-fits-all pants. Mister’s farm begins to fail. Desperate to reconcile with Celie, he works to help bring Nettie back.
This story is a timeless epic of one woman’s struggle for identity, respect, and love. It is also a tale of female solidarity. Celie would never have been able to escape Mister without the help of Shug, Sofia, and Nettie’s unwavering devotion.
Alice Walker’s original novel is written as an epistolary, the first part mostly letters from Celie to God. The difficulties of translating such an intimate discourse to the screen and stage are daunting. Voice-overs help but cannot carry the full impact of this personal narrative of loneliness and anguish. In the original film, much of Celie’s pain and isolation was communicated through the wonderfully understated depth of Whoopi Goldberg’s portrayal. Her bemused shyness and shy smile spoke volumes about her inner pain. While Barrino’s portrayal of Celie onstage was simply marvelous, her portrayal of the protagonist seems to lose something on the big screen. Her Celie does not seem to translate well to the big screen.
The musical—as musicals do—conveyed her pain beautifully through song, but somehow this film version of the musical misses the mark. Despite phenomenal performances by Danielle Brooks and Colman Domingo, the film seems more of a glossed-over and condensed version of the story, much like a DK Children’s Encyclopedia. The story and some of the characterizations seem abbreviated and truncated. Taraji P. Henson’s rendition of Shug in particular seems hollow and flat. The beautifully choreographed dance numbers are so choppily edited that they distract from the strength and grace of the dancers. Watching the spectacular “Shug Avery” number in particular is frustrating because the frenetic cutting makes it hard to follow the dancers.
The production design of this film is absolutely spectacular, but at times its glossiness seems to overwhelm the gravity of the story. The scene in which Shug makes her grand entrance at the juke joint looks as if it came straight out of Cleopatra or Phantom of the Opera while the subsequent scenes of her performing, so vibrant and alive in the original film, are flat and disappointing in this version.
With this stellar cast and incredible production staff, the viewer might expect this version of The Color Purple to surpass both its predecessors, but somehow, these sum of these parts do not equal the whole. This film lacks the intimacy of the Spielberg original as well as the soul and pathos of the musical. In its eagerness to produce a better and newer version of this epic story that is so relevant to today, director Blitz Bazawule and the producers seem to have overreached. This version is visually stunning. The dancing and music are spectacular. The sets, the dance numbers, the singing, and (for the most part) the acting is excellent, but the tone of the movie seems set on a high level of visual intensity that never lets up. It seems to be trying too hard to be a blockbuster. The simple story of an oppressed African American woman struggling to find her identity and love is nearly buried beneath this overly glossy production.
All in all, The Color Purple is a good film, but it is not, as it could have, and should have been, a great film.