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| Color Purple, The |
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  (6/10)
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Runtime: 154 |
| Public Rating: 8.09 (44 votes) |
Director: Steven Spielberg |
MPAA Rating:  |
| Genre: Drama |
Year: 1985 |
| Writer(s): Menno Meyjes |
| Distributor: 1 |
| Reviewed by: Vadim Rizov |
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Fie, fie to the critics who dismissed Spielberg as merely a "popular" director, a crowd-pleasing simplistic cash-producer. It's true that his films were incredibly popular and increasingly sentimental (although in 1985, nobody had yet experienced the depths of sentimentality he was to indulge in), yet, at the very least, he was technically the most skilled director around, and in Close Encounters of the Third King he had produced a surprisingly complex blockbuster that was also a masterpiece. Shame, therefore, to lazy critics who placed him as a cash-producer, a mere brand name - shame because 1) they were wrong and 2) they inspired him to make this film. Though Spielberg's "serious" track record is uneven, this, his first stab at such a film, is a howlingly wrongheaded move, salvaged and made surprisingly watchable by his technical panache.
From the word go, this film was obviously unsuited to his temperament. For example, though Spielberg definitely doesn't mind showing scenes with an awkward, uncomfortable family, he's always been uncomfortable with actually showing non-cartoonish violence - and Alice Walker's tale calls for a considerable amount of domestic abuse. (For those of you not forced to come into contact with the source book at some point, The Color Purple is a story of Black Southern womanhood triumphing over male ignorance and oppression.) Spielberg shows us a slap or two and implies the rest. Walker's tale also calls for lesbian sex, and Spielberg isn't even comfortable with on-screen straight sex, so there goes that plot element.
What are we left with? Strong women - Walker loves strong, saintly, flawless women. Also, cartoonish, overbearing, either drunk or mean men - though allegedly the novel is much harsher towards men. A story that takes 2 1/2 hours to play out - 40 years pass in a snap, relatively. Characters drop in and out, and what does Spielberg do to exert control over this big-ranging chaos?
He retreats behind the camera. Shy Jewish lad that he is, the movie's tagline ("It's about life. It's about love. It's about us.") probably didn't apply to him. With longtime cinematographer Allan Daviau, he creates gorgeous, throroughly enjoyable compositions. With constant editor Michael Kahn he creates one intense suspense piece. And nothing else - the film is restrained in its drama, cartoonish in its comedy, and bathetic in its ending. Still, aided by his terrific cast - save Oprah Winfrey, who doesn't earn her pain - and able to create terrific shots, he makes the film watchable and even somewhat entertaining, in a way totally not related to the characters. Spielberg would do better in the "serious" realm of movies, but critics rightly savaged him in this first attempt. Incidentally, for all this film's faults, I challenge you to name a Hollywood film dealing with similar material that does it better - that's right, progress still is slow in coming. A Southern, truly Black epic has yet to be made.
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