By their nature, adaptations across media tend to be viewed as safe, presumably because they rely on a built-in audience already familiar with the source material either directly or tangentially, elevating interest in an adaptation as a result. The same, however, doesn’t necessarily apply to a second adaptation of the same material regardless of whether it’s another straightforward adaptation or like Blitz Bazawule’s (Black is King), an adaptation of both Alice Walker’s Pulitzer Prize-winning 1982 novel, The Color Purple, and the subsequent 2005 Broadway musical (a revival a decade later won multiple Tony Awards).
It certainly helps, however, that Bazawule and uber-producer Oprah Winfrey stacked the deck with a who’s who of African-American talent in leading and supporting roles, beginning with Fantasia Barrino, the third-season American Idol winner and subsequent Grammy Award winner, as Celie, the role immortalized by Academy Award-winner Whoopi Goldberg almost forty years ago, and continuing with Taraji B. Henson as Shug Avery, the singer-performer who captures both Celie’s heart and mind. The deep, talented cast includes Colman Domingo as the brutal, vengeful Mister, a role first brought to the screen by Danny Glover and, in key supporting roles, Corey Hawkins as Harpo, Mister’s milquetoast son, and a revelatory Danielle Brooks as Sofia, Harpo’s self-confident, independent-minded wife.
With Phylicia Pearl Mpasi as the teen version of Celie and Halle Bailey as Celie’s younger sister, Nettie, The Color Purple charts Celie’s coming-of-age during the early part of the 20th century. Only decades removed from the Civil War, the Reconstruction, and the end of Reconstruction, the story tacitly acknowledges the institutionalized racism and prejudice that left African-Americans economically and politically deprived, all while shuttling in one song-and-dance routine after another to break up the otherwise bleak, downbeat narrative surrounding Celie. This is particularly apparent in the early years when she’s tossed aside like used merchandise by her father and given to Mister as an indentured servant.
Mister’s disturbingly violent behavior toward Celie betrays not just deep-seated misogyny or sexism, but an expression of his own mistreatment by the white supremacists who remain thankfully off-screen for most of The Color Purple’s running time. There’s an implicit admission, however, that Celie has no recourse for her mistreatment at the hands of Mister: Whatever passes as law enforcement or a police force would ignore Celie’s complaints or worse, inform Mister of her claims, in effect making her life even more unbearable.
Therein lies the crux of the problem with a musical adaptation of a towering work of fiction like The Color Purple: Shifting between Mister’s depredations and Celie’s degradations at his hands for the occasional musical interlude, even if the interludes are treated as fantasy or dream sequences, often create emotional whiplash, asking audiences to feel an entire range of emotions, from pity, sympathy, or empathy for Celie’s plight to the upbeat, positive, and even joyful when the next, inevitable musical sequence intrudes into the narrative.
The lack of tonal fit qualifies as one issue, but it’s related to another fit issue involving the constant switches between the narrative proper and those musical sequences. Drop the latter and The Color Purple would still feel whole. Add them back in and the result feels disjointed, jarring, and borderline incoherent. For all the wonderfully choreographed dance routines, heartfelt singing, and semi-memorable songs, The Color Purple never quite overcomes those twin issues of fit or fitness.
Still, even as those issues start to feel insurmountable, the ultra-talented cast gives their absolute all both dramatically and musically. Barrino can handle singing duties with seemingly minimal effort, but she acquits herself particularly well when the film asks her to act and react and not sing. Henson reveals a side, a singing side, rarely shown in the past, less for lack of talent (she’s undoubtedly talented) than lack of opportunity. As the lively, flamboyant, convention-defying Shug, she’s rarely less than fantastic. At the same time, Danielle Brooks delivers the kind of sit-up-and-pay-attention performance as Sofia that in a perfect world should boost her post-The Color Purple career.
Once, though, The Color Purple resolves the central Celie-Mister conflict, positively for Celie, negatively for Mister, it gradually begins to lose focus, meandering through a handful of episodic, stop-start scenes that rarely feel essential (and often don’t). Eventually, The Color Purple culminates in a scene of reunion and reconciliation that, while not fully earned for all the participants, at least sends the cast and the characters they’ve played across the preceding two-plus hours on a literal high note.
The Color Purple opens theatrically on Monday, December 25.
https://youtube.com/watch?v=wPwzBUui1GA%3Fsi%3D2EkJY986P3mYUWID
