Moriarty Sings Along With DREAMGIRLS!!

Wednesday night in LA, Dreamworks/Paramount finally showed the press DREAMGIRLS, which has become one of the most-discussed films of the last few months precisely because no one had seen it yet. I don’t really play the Oscar game. I don’t write about the Oscars in the weeks and months leading up to them, and I find the insane overdiscussion of them to be wearying. It ruins the joy of watching films for me when they come with too much awards-season baggage, and I think people turn into handicappers instead of critics when they focus too much on the Oscar. Having said that, if you are curious about the film’s Oscar prospects, there’s an astute analysis of its chances up at Movie City News already. DREAMGIRLS is one of the most confident and precise pictures of the year, a classic movie musical that will connect with audiences across the board. This is a joyous movie at times, and when it takes a turn in its second half and things get darker, it remains palatable because of how powerfully told each step of the emotional journey is. This is impeccably crafted, but more than that... it’s deeply felt. This is not a slick soulless Hollywood version of a Broadway show. This doesn’t feel calculated; it feels dreamed. The film starts with quick glimpses of color in the dark, fringe on blue dresses, long legs and tall shoes. Then a blast of music, and four girls take the stage, belting out an R&B song. It’s a small theater, packed, a black crowd in their early-1960’s-Detroit finest. The film’s jittery, just like all the characters we meet backstage. Curtis Taylor Jr. (Jamie Foxx) is like a shark, trolling the waters, a hustler looking for his marks. When he sees Deena Jones (Beyonce Knowles), Effie White (Jennifer Hudson), and Lorrell Robinson (Anika Noni Rose), he goes into overdrive. Everyone’s nerves keep jangling all the way through the first performance by the Dreamettes, and when they don’t win the talent show, it’s tough for them to deal with. With Effie’s brother Cece (Keith Robinson), they’ve been working on their act, and they’re sick of losing out. Curtis kicks into high, putting together a chance for them, their big break. Effie almost doesn’t take it, though. See, she doesn’t sing back-up, and the gig that Curtis gets for them is singing back-up to an established act. All of this is handled quickly, and by about ten minutes in, we meet that established act, that big star who’s going to give these girls a break. We meet James “Thunder” Early, a sort of James Brown/Otis Redding hybrid, and from the moment Eddie Murphy appeared onscreen, something crazy happened to me. See, I think my generation had two movie stars that absolutely belonged to us. Harrison Ford and Eddie Murphy. Ever since Harrison Ford’s tragic death in the early ‘90s, we’ve been left to wonder what would have happened if he had been able to keep making movies. Eddie Murphy has spent most of the past fifteen years or so making occasional comedy gems (BOWFINGER) and a lot of family films that may well be sweet and silly, but that hold no interest for me (DADDY DAY CARE). It’s felt like we lost those two movie stars completely, and that’s been disheartening. Playing James “Thunder” Early, though, Eddie Murphy comes roaring back to life with a fire that I didn’t believe him capable of at this point. Or maybe I believed he was capable of it, but I just never thought we’d see him working at full capacity again. Jimmy meets the girls and then teaches them their first song, and the way the sequence is cut, it starts as a backstage rehearsal, then turns into a full-blown concert in the span of one swooping camera move, and watching Eddie go from his backstage persona to his onstage dynamo in a single move says almost everything you need to know about Eddie Murphy as a performer. This movie finally gives us a peek into those carefully guarded eyes of his, and it’s a performance of depth and weight. The first half of the film is effervescent, all about the climb to success and the compromises along the way. By now, showbiz biography is one of those genres where we know all the beats by heart, so it’s all about how you tell it. Condon’s visual style has changed dramatically here from what we saw on GODS & MONSTERS and KINSEY. There’s a kinetic quality to it that neither of those films demanded, and he’s created a very lush world for all of this to unfold within. His recreation of a period Detroit is grounded in reality, but Condon knows that musicals don’t take place in the “real” world, and there’s just that little bit of candy coating to everything. It’s impossible to say who the lead in the film is. The focus of the film shifts enough times that I wouldn’t really say anyone is the “star” of the movie. At first, it looks like Effie is the lead, and Jennifer Hudson proves to be up to the demands of the role. Effie’s a diva, but it’s just an act. When she thinks no one is looking, there’s an insecure streak in her a mile wide, and much of her bluster is to cover her own fears. She knows she’s the best singer of the trio, but when Curtis finally agrees to put them on as a headlining act, he insists on pushing Deena to the front of the group as lead singer, something that almost breaks Effie. She’s the one who constantly compromises until she finally loses everything. When Hudson performs Effie’s signature song, “And I Am Telling You I Am Not Going,” it’s electric not because it’s the show’s most recognizable number, but because it’s such a raw primal emotional moment. That’s what musicals do that no other film really can... they allow characters to give voice to all those things that would otherwise go unsaid. You can do things in a song you could never do in conventional dialogue, or even in a voice-over. You can have a character lay their heart bare completely. It actually happens again later, but with Deena finally finding her voice and singing the amazing “Listen”. At that point, you’d swear it was Deena’s movie, and you wouldn’t be wrong. In the final moments, though, with every character brought back for one final scene, you realize that the film is about all of them, this community of performers, and the way show business plays hell with the lives of those who give themselves to it. It may not be a brand-new theme, but Condon makes it feel urgent and important here, and that is part of what makes this so impressive. The film’s music is obvious a key piece of whether or not it works, and I suppose how much you like the film will hinge in part on how well Henry Krieger’s score moves you. I think it’s a witty nod to the history of Motown, but the songs are really solid on their own. There’s another new track written for the film that is a knockout, called “Patience.” It’s a track that’s recorded by Jimmy Early later in his career, during his Marvin Gaye phase, and it sounds like it would be perfectly at home on “What’s Goin’ On?”. I think a few of the tracks work better as sonic exposition than they do as songs, but there are plenty of stand-alone hits here, and the audience last night burst into applause after at least five or six of the numbers. The tech credits on this are outstanding across the board. Cinematography, production design, editing... everyone’s brought their A-game, and the result is every bit as polished as you’d expect. Ultimately, though, what makes this film a better-than-average example of its genre is the pure love of the musical form that shows through in every choice made by writer/director Bill Condon. He feels about this genre the way Tarantino feels about trashy exploitation and kung-fu, and it shows. He’s pushed his cast to career best places in some cases, and he’s given Beyonce a real film career after this if she wants it. She shows sides of herself as a performer that were impossible to imagine based on GOLDMEMBER or THE PINK PANTHER, and it’s caused to reassess her completely. There are moments where she seems to be channeling young Diana Ross completely, and there’s a wall-sized photo hanging in Curtis’s office at once point that I thought was Ross at first glance. But it’s not an imitation... it’s a fully-rendered recreation, and Ross should be profoundly flattered by what Beyonce’s done here. As Jimmy Early finds himself marginalized, he numbs the pain with drugs, and there’s a wordless moment here where Eddie just levels everyone in the room who wants him to stop where he’s doing, and it’s all accomplished with a single look. His final performance number has a bitter edge to it, and again... I can’t help feeling like Eddie is exorcising feelings about his own career with this character. By making this film, though, and by giving this kind of amazing performance in it, Eddie’s already avoided the trap that caught Jimmy Early and so many other performers. This is a redefinition of who he is as an entertainer, and I pray that it does well for him so that we see more of this kind of work from him in the future. I don’t mind a NORBIT as long as he mixes it up and allows more directors to use him as well as Condon did. If for nothing else, I adore this film for giving Murphy back to me. Like I said... I don’t do the Oscar thing, and I rarely even mention the awards at all, but in this one case, I’ll make an exception by signing off with my new mantra, the one I’ll be invoking over and over between now and February: Give Eddie The Oscar. Drew McWeeny, Los Angeles