A thought crossed my mind one day about how major movie musicals don’t seem to be getting the same treatment they did even just a few years ago. The last motion-picture musical I remember people drumming up excitement for was 2021’s In the Heights, and that was mainly because of Lin-Manuel Miranda. And then all of a sudden, three musicals were released almost simultaneously: Wonka, Mean Girls and this very film I’m talking about. But why aren’t people talking about them with the same excitement? Simple: they aren’t being marketed as such.
The Color Purple is an odd example of an adaptation of a musical adaptation of a film adaptation of Alice Walker’s heavy-hitting novel of domestic abuse and overcoming racism. If all of that paints the picture of a shambolic movie culture, showing a sign of complete creative bankruptcy, then I’m afraid that’s simply the point we’re at with these films.
But we’re not here to judge this film just simply for how lazily it adapts the various source materials. This reimagining must be judged on a standalone basis. It’s a story that should ring through each era since the original book was created. After all, with our more intent minds towards domestic abuse and racism, this film should be perfect for the ever-changing growth of our society. The problem is that much of what was portrayed in the original book and Steven Spielberg’s 1985 adaptation has been greatly neutered. A story of a woman overcoming abuse is now distracted by poppy musical numbers.
Though not entirely bad and filled with plenty of positive criticisms, this isn’t quite the story we may have wanted. This is Blitz Bazawule’s The Color Purple.
Set over the course of several decades, the primary story focuses on Celie (played as a teenager by Phylicia Pearl Mpasi and then Fantasia Barrino as an adult), described as stupid and ugly by most, is introduced giving birth to her second child. Her father takes the child away, just as he did with the first, ‘to God.’ As sad and longing Celie becomes, she maintains a strong bond with her sister, Nettie (Halle Bailey). The two protect each other from their father’s abusive grip, but things change upon the arrival of Mister (Colman Domingo). The adult farmer has grown infatuated by the younger Nettie, and asks her father for her hand in marriage. The father denies this, but offers Celie as an alternative. Celie doesn’t get a choice, and is left to look after her abusive husband and uncaring step children.
Though Nettie briefly lives with her sister, a refusal to give in to Mister’s seduction causes her to be thrown from his land with the promise that he’ll kill her if she comes back. Nettie promises to write her sister, but time passes many years and no letters ever come. Celie has grown into a shy and submissive woman, often following at the call of Mister. Mister, however, has eyes for another woman. A famous jazz singer by name of Shug Avery (Taraji P. Henson), who he has longed for since their previous relationship. Things shift when Shug pays a visit to her old flame, and though she initially dislikes Celie, the two share a bond. Shug also tries to mend the bond between herself and her preacher father.
Other characters shift in and out, with one particular sub-story being focused on Mister’s son, Harpo (Corey Hawkins) and his wife Sofia (Danielle Brooks). This relationship soon turns south, but Celie’s relationship with Sofia only strengthens. As miserable as her life with Mister is, Celie holds on to what little happiness she can get, and still longs to one day find her sister and the children that were taken away from her.
Fans of the original book will feel a comfort knowing that the core story is still kept very much in tact. Having only experienced Spielberg’s reimagining, I will mainly be using that as a basis for comparison. That said, there is much that is greatly reduced for the sake of sanitising anything potentially ‘too much’ for the younger audiences that may watch this. Therein lies the problem.
Say what you want about the ’85 adaptation, but not much was held back. It ventured into risqué material, highlighting the dark and grisly details of Celie’s life. Much of that is expressed here, just with a more ambiguous approach. Things like Celie’s impregnation being a result of her father is more implied; the beatings from her husband are rather weightless and too expected compared to the more unpredictable nature of the original; and certain characters are made less cruel, like Harpo. This blatant sanitation of the story’s more poignant plot points and themes is counterproductive.
The movie’s message is drowned by an insistence to keep the audience entertained. The original had a comical tone to accompany the darker elements, but it was always to provide a juxtaposition. Here, the more terrifying parts don’t get time to breathe and are usually followed by jaunty musical numbers. The entire premise of turning a serious story about oppression into a stage musical was already a terrible idea. There are certain themes that cannot be explored as intently because of the nature of theatre. The film version has a chance to reintroduce those themes more blatantly, but it opts for the safest route possible.
There isn’t much depth to this version. While performances are good across the board-standouts being Halle Bailey and Danielle Brooks-these characters feel more like 2-D images of what we know. Celie doesn’t have the same occasional enjoyment of Whoopi Goldberg’s version, nor does she feel particularly memorable. Her subtle shyness is nicely conveyed, and she does get these moments of emotional beats that are effective. But she pales in comparison to the unavoidable powerhouse of the original film. This problem is rampant with characters like Mister or Shug, who neither carry the same meanness or sisterly relationship of their respective counterparts.
On the point of the film being more interested in keeping its audience more entertained, there’s a certain briskness that really bothered me. There are serious moments that don’t get the time to breathe. The relationship between Celie and Nettie is not explored enough. There aren’t those endearing moments of Nettie teaching her sister how to read or their little games. The film adapts the theatre formula and pacing so intently that it forgets that a film needs more time to tell its story. Musical numbers can only go so far.
Speaking of the musical numbers, it’s undeniable that every one is well produced. They are electrically performed, with every actor giving it their all, and it’s shot and paced perfectly. For how needless a musical adaptation was, they do take full advantage of the gospel-inspired tone and lyrics. The original film had more context-specific music pieces, so there was a natural progression. But in all honesty, many of the better numbers fade away before we reach the second half. As catchy and memorable as those first few songs are, I couldn’t recall a single song in the second half beyond slight bits of instrumentation.
To reel it back to the story, there is a lot missing within the film’s DNA. The only sub-story that keeps the weight of the original is Harpo’s relationship with Sofia. The tense and dramatic moment that happens late into the film is still very effective, even if it does feel too hyperbolic at times. It keeps that theme of racial prejudice strong, but again, we don’t dwell enough on the scenes. There has to be more time to process what’s going on. The jailhouse scene that follows is perfect; I just wish there was more like it.
One thing I lamented when watching the original 1985 film for the first time was how relevant much of the commentary is for today. Racism and domestic abuse will always have a place to discuss, but there’s far more focus and openness about it. There was a sense of hopefulness when going in to this one that these themes would be addressed more thoroughly. I was not expecting to get more out of the original.
There’s restraint here; that much is obvious. The domestic abuse is not brutal enough and can feel cartoonish. Phenomenal moments like Celie almost slashing her husband’s neck while shaving or the lesbian kiss that marked an escape for her have lost their impact. Everything in the original felt concise and premeditated, as if Spielberg always had the main theme on his mind with every little choice he made. This one feels hollow and only understands these themes on a very basic level. Dumbing down characters and making certain male figures less evil or damaged just contradicts the theme so dramatically. You’d think, with more female empowerment these days, the film would be able to expand that. But it feels so much more motionless.
Most insulting to this dumbing down is the final act. I’m obviously going to avoid spoiling it, but what I will say is how blatantly it ignores the original redemption of the previous film. It lacks the subtlety of the original and treats its audience as if they cannot understand a quieter moment of repentance.
I’ve grown very sick of these bland, identity-derived remakes of much better films. I watched this not long after having watched the Mean Girls remake, that of which is also a musical. While it never reaches the soulless nature of that film, The Color Purple has little in the way of a unique identity. It’s competently made and has wonderful cinematography and a pounding score rejuvenated by Quincy Jones, but it’s insubstantial and less hitting than Spielberg’s original.
It’s a wild thought that Spielberg could make a more brutal and honest interpretation of the original novel. Films like this throw in a single unique spin-the music-and the film makers decide that is enough. While certainly having its moments of grandeur, never has the colour of purple felt more mauve.
Written review by Conor Johnson.