For Colored Girls--My personal Review

I didn’t read the book. Neither did I see the play. But I watched the movie. Of course, I was hesitant to pay $12 to see another Tyler Perry movie where women are always viewed as the predators, the whores, the highly educated ice-queens, the alcoholic man-loving-baby-denying mamas, the overweight-Jesus-Freaks-with-no-common-sense….I don’t need to go on.

So when I heard that For Colored Girls was now in Perry’s hands, the first thought that came to mind was another episode of “Diary of an Angry Black Woman” meets “Why did I get Married 2” which were nothing but clichés and stereotypes dissolving in poorly written, insipid lines and overly dramatic plots.

On the day after Thanksgiving, I took the risk and invited my parents who are big fans of Tyler Perry, to see For Colored Girls with me. The entire time, I nibbled my way through a bag of large, heavily buttered popcorn (keeping in mind that I had to return to the gym on Monday), and watched out for the first indication of a stereotype that would hit me upside the head as in all Tyler Perry’s films. For the first 30 minutes, things looked OK, but then there was Lady in Red (Perry's typical highly-educated-high-net-worth ice-queen), played by Janet Jackson’s character and her “down-low” cheating husband.

Immediately I lost my appetite (internally grateful for the 500 less calories I would’ve absorbed but annoyed nonetheless), having to blink twice at Tyler Perry’s attempt to perpetuate the ignorance in regards to the down-low brotha being the HIV-causing monsters to black women. Give me a break here! Why is Perry feeding into this crap? There were women in the theater throwing up their hands, muttering cuss words at the screen at Janet Jackson’s DL husband as if their own hetero-realities aren’t as horrific given that HIV is no longer just a “gay man's disease”. I swallowed my annoyance with a sip of cherry-coke, wondering when Tyler Perry will actually come out of his own closet and set us free from this stereotypical-gay-bashing-internalized-homophobic mess he often feeds us on screen.

After an hour, the pace of the movie slowed until I was awakened by Lady in Brown (Kimberly Elise)’s husband, played by Michael Ealy, dangling their toddlers out a window. Like everyone else moved by this heart-wrenching scene, I screamed. Honestly Kimberly Elise took the crown in this movie as the best actress. I was actually moved by her part. Finally there is a movie where the easy watering of her puppy-dog big, brown eyes might pay off. Each bruise and anguish was real as she communicated her emotions through tears and deep sobs (of course, what more can you expect from Kimberly Elise), crying for all black women who had ever known abuse. I even dared whisper to my mother that Elise’s role will make her Oscar-worthy.

As I said, I’ve never seen the play or read the book. Therefore I wasn’t convinced of the relevance of the Lady in Blue role played by Kerry Washington. I never thought I would say this about the ever-sexy Kerry Washington, but her part was absolutely forgettable. In fact, sometimes I forgot that she was even in the movie. In my Fiction workshop, I’ve learned to delete irrelevant characters. So had it been my script, I would’ve deleted Kerry Washington’s role or given it to a much better actress with whom an audience could identify. I felt nothing from her—not even in her seemingly perfunctory attempt to conceive.

I absolutely adored Loretta Devine’s role, but I felt that she always plays those high-pitched-big mama-wanna-date roles that evoke the sappy memories of “Waiting to Exhale”. In my opinion, the worst thing that could ever happen to an actor is to be type-casted.

Thandi Newton on the other hand gave her role as Lady in Orange the best shot. Never before had I seen Newton in such a raw, honest light. Even in her role as Beloved in the 1998 film based on Toni Morrison’s novel, Newton never sent so much shivers down my spine as she did with her schizophrenic rage in For Colored Girls. She plays a coke-addicted, sassy, street-smart waif who loves the feel of the warm bodies of men more than her own, but who holds a secret that only her psycho-religious mother, woman in White played by Whoopi Goldberg, knows too well.

Goldberg stretches herself beyond any roles she has ever played, literally transforming into a cult-following old woman who hoards boxes inside her cramped apartment (a metaphor for the mental/emotional baggage she carries) and who remains as a tyrant in the lives of her two very confused and hurting daughters. I said bravo to Whoopi whose saving grace was straying from acting for so long and sitting on The View for over two years. That way, audiences might have forgotten the other roles she ever played throughout her career to compare.

Lady in Yellow played by Anika Noni Rose was as easily forgettable—(except for that rape scene)—just as Lady in Blue (Kerry Washington). Not to mention Macy Gray, who I’m convinced played herself as an incoherent drunk, only occupied 5 seconds of the entire movie just to give Lady in Purple, Tessa Thompson an abortion.

Phylicia Rashad’s character was the rock of all the characters. A building manager of the apartment complex where all the characters either lived or passed through, she held the forte, always on the lookout. She watched from her apartment the revolving door of characters that exited and entered scenes, staggering up and down the stairs, banging on doors, or slamming them. For some reason this reminded me of the Women of Brewster’s Place—that 1989 movie starring Oprah Winfrey where the struggles of the characters happened behind closed doors where secrets eventually got leaked through cracks in the walls, under the door, and into the streets.

Overall, the movie would’ve paled as another tear-jerker that feeds off the plots of “Oprah Winfrey-Terry McMillan-esque” black women movies before its time such as The Color Purple, Women of Brewster’s Place, Beloved, Waiting to Exhale (pictured above). Perhaps if the movie was a bit longer than the 2.5 hours, How Stella Got her Groove Back would’ve probably made its way inside the plot too, throwing in another quintessential "DL brotha-grim-reaper" who would later break Stella’s heart after she gives him a greencard.

If it weren’t for the poetry, I would’ve classed this movie as clichéd. But given the depth and beauty of the poetic words laced with metaphors to life’s blessings and distresses as a woman of color, I was deeply moved by it—enough to make me want to buy the book—not the movie—just for those uplifting words.

Nicole © 2010

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