Film Review: "The Color Purple" (2023)
The new film adaptation of the beloved musical is a transcendent celebration of Black womanhood.
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I knew going in that I was going to love The Color Purple. I am a gay man, after all, and as everyone knows musicals are like catnip to us. And, while I haven’t had the privilege of seeing the stage show, I’ve long been a fan of the cast recording, and I still manage to be moved by Spielberg’s version, for all of its flaws. Unsurprisingly, I did, in fact, love The Color Purple. It made me laugh, it made me cry and, more than anything, it allowed me to escape into the kind of emotional landscape that only the Hollywood musical can ever truly provide.
When the film begins, Celie works for her tyrannical father, who has also been the father of both of her children, each of whom he has proceeded to give away. The only bright spot in her life is her sister, Nettie, and the two sisters share an unbreakable bond; even after Nettie is cast out by Celie’s brutal husband Mister, she continues to think about her. As the years pass, she slowly comes into her own, particularly once Mister’s long-lost love Shug Avery comes to town. While almost everyone else sees Celie as nothing more than a drudge who has had all of the spirit beaten out of her, Shug sees the magic beneath and, along with the irrepressible Sofia, she inspires Celie to discover the strong woman that has always been inside her meek shell.
Fantasia Barrino is, of course, the beating heart of the film. There’s a wrenching soulfulness to her performance as Celie that pulls at your heart, and you can’t help but feel with her as she endures Mister’s constant physical and emotional abuse. Watching her transformation from a beaten-down victim of the repeated abuse and cruelty of her husband and her father to a triumphant businesswoman unafraid of following her desires–the film doesn’t shy away from the sapphic notes of the novel, though they are rather understated–is a truly transformative experience, made manifest by the expertly choreographed, performed, and filmed number “What About Love?” Fantasia’s brilliance lies in her ability to capture this metamorphosis in every detail, right down to her body language. As Celie begins to find the strength and beauty inside of her, her posture changes, becoming more erect and purposeful; even the way she holds her face becomes more assured. When, at long last, she rebels and holds a knife against Mister’s throat, I wanted to stand up and cheer right there in the theater
Equally important is the powerful bond between Celie and her sister, Nettie (played as a child by Halle Bailey and as an adult by Ciara). Phylicia Pearl Mpasi and Halle Bailey are superb in the scenes when the sisters are still young, with the latter’s ebullience and independence buoying up her more somber and withdrawn sibling. Though they spend most of the film separated by a vast distance–Nettie has gone to Africa as a missionary, having connected with Celie’s two children–they are always in one another’s thoughts. If you can watch their reunion during the film’s finale without breaking down into wracking sobs, then I have to wonder whether you are even fully human. It’s one of those moments that is just pure, undiluted feeling, and I loved every minute of it.
And, while Mister is obviously the film’s main antagonist, Colman Domingo turns him into something more than just a one-dimensional monster. There’s charm and charisma beneath his cruelty, but more importantly the film makes a point of showing how his own brutal nature is very much a product of his own upbringing under the thumb of his equally misogynist father. As such, The Color Purple reminds us that misogyny is not just a choice; it is also something that is passed down from one generation to the next.
Much of the film’s emotional power also stems from its undeniably melodramatic storyline. The Color Purple uses the conventions of melodrama–the suffering heroine, the mapping of virtue onto the female body, the moral binary of good vs. evil–to draw us in and keep us enraptured. Seen in this light, Celie’s suffering at the hands of her husband and others come to bear significant moral weight. The fact that she remains a fundamentally good and decent person through all of this–made most manifest when she visits Sofia in jail and brings her food–is testament to her virtue.
Unsurprisingly, music also plays a role here. I’m sure I’m not the only one who felt myself lifted out of my body during Fantasia’s performance of “I’m Here,” in which Celie at last gets to reclaim all of the things that have so long been denied her: financial independence, personal agency and, perhaps most importantly of all, pure, simple happiness. Of course, she has only reached this point because of the examples set by both Shug and Sofia, and both Danielle Brooksand Taraji P. Henson are superbly well-cast in their roles, both of whom deliver knockout vocals. Sofia’s “Hell No!” is an unapologetically fierce and proud reclamation of Black female agency, while Shug’s “Push Da Button” is a similar reclaiming of sexual desire.
The Color Purple is, in other words, a true triumph of Hollywood musical storytelling. While the final part of the film might seem a bit rushed to some, all of the film’s other elements more than make up for it. This is the type of film that will take you to the highs and the lows of human emotion, allowing you to feel joy and sorrow and grief and everything in between. It reminds you that there are powerful stories buried in the American psyche, stories that are filled with pain and trauma, yes, but also sisterhood and faith and love and all of the things that make us gloriously and exasperatingly human. When, at the end, Celie and her large, sprawling, and contradictory family sing “The Color Purple,” it’s a moment of celebration and transcendence when both viewer and character can simply celebrate being in the world.
What a precious gift.