Review: The Color Purple

The film to stage musical to musical film pipeline has been going strong for a while now, with results best described as "mixed". Even great musicals can become average films, and with a perfectly good film version already in place a musical take has even more obstacles to overcome.

So it's a relief that that the new musical version of The Color Purple - featuring songs from the 2005 musical, which in turn built on both the 1985 Spielberg film and the 1982 novel by Alice Walker - feels like a natural extension of what went before. Directed by Beyonce collaborator Blitz Bazawule, it's in turn riotously energetic and sombre, music thrumming through the Georgia of a century ago like a heartbeat.

Celie (Phylicia Pearl Mpasi) has it rough from the start. Pregnant at 14 with her second child to her father Alfonso (Deon Cole) raising her, it's only her younger sister Nettie (Halle Bailey) that provides her with any joy. After Alfonso gives away her newborn (delivered by a midwife played, in a nice cameo, by Whoopi Goldberg, who made her screen debut in the 1985 film), he marries her off to the superficially charming "Mister" (Colman Domingo). 

It is not a happy marriage. When Nettie flees Alfonso's clutches, she finds safety with her sister - for a time, as Mister is no better. Resisting his advances as well, she's thrown out, leaving Celie alone in a loveless house. 

Years pass and other women come into her life. There's force of nature Sofia (Danielle Brooks), who won't accept the violence and abuse Celie (now played by Fantasia Barrino) sees as her lot in life. And Shug Avery (Taraji P Henson) local girl made good singing the blues and love of Mister's life, rolls back into town stinking drunk. She's looking for a place to dry out; what she finds helps rekindle her passion for performing and her love of... well, her relationship with Celie is largely a matter of suggestion here.

There's a lot of heartbreak and pain here, and no shortage of brutality either. A big part of what makes the musical numbers work is the way they tap into the inner lives of Celie and those around her, the sorrow that fills their lives and the strength they find to keep going. Occasionally shading into the fantastic, the big group numbers underline the sense of community that runs throughout the story, while the solo songs driving home the sadness and isolation the characters struggle with.

As with all musicals, different songs will connect with different people; for mine, the earlier, more blues-influenced songs hit harder, and Shug's big numbers are always a stand-out. But across the board, the songs are strong enough to justify this film all on their own.

That's not to take away from the performances, or from Bazawule's direction. Swerving between authentically lived-in and woozy fantasy, this first and foremost feels like it's coming from the heart. It's a powerful, all-encompassing experience, one that - to use an over-used phrase - takes audiences on a journey. 

The feel-good ending (even for some of the nastier characters) is both joyous and earned; it's a hard road to travel, and everyone on it deserves a shot at redemption.

- Anthony Morris

 

 

 

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