Dreamgirls

Dreamgirls is quite a confection of operatic dysfunction and dazzling lights, but it still turns out to be a bit of a letdown. Writer/director Bill Condon, the man who brought us the underrated biopics Kinsey and Gods and Monsters, squanders his talent for crafting subtle and outstanding drama here and instead loads up the movie with flamboyant spectacle and wall to wall visual flare. The film looks amazing, but its heart gets buried in glitter and the whole production comes up feeling excessive and insincere.

The general story revolves around a Supremes-esque girl group’s rise to fame and the dirty underhandedness that it takes to get them there. Pop singer Beyoncé Knowles plays Deena Jones, the Diana Ross type lead singer who is thrown into the spotlight due mostly to her beauty and easy acceptance by white audiences. Knowles has appeared in lightweight films in the past, but makes her true cinematic debut here with assurance and dignity. It’s not a performance worthy of the Best Actress trophies everyone seems eager to throw at her, but it does prove that she has talent well beyond Pink Panther remakes. Also reminding us that he has talent is Eddie Murphy, who thankfully plays just one character in the film and not generations of family relatives as he seems determined to do in every one of his lame brained comedies. He stars as a James Brown-esque soul man named Jimmy Early who gives the girls their big break as backup singers and goes on to self destruct in a world where soul music has lost its hold. Early’s downfall comes mostly as a result of the dirty tricks of Curtis Taylor Jr., played by Academy Award winner Jamie Foxx. Though he’s the most proven member of the cast, Foxx gives the most underwhelming performance and mostly just modestly scowls his way through the film.

It’s the least known and least experienced member of the cast, Jennifer Hudson, who makes the biggest impression here as Effie White, a member of the group who gets cast out for being an excessive diva with a voice that’s too soulful and a body that’s too curvy to make it in the mainstream. Hudson gives a delightful performance that shuns the sort of glamour plaguing the rest of the film. Her work has provides a whole hearted, full throated passion that really makes this carefully calculated film come to life with messy and spontaneous excitement. Her show stopping number, “And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going,” is precisely the combination of emotional theatrics and staggering musical ferocity that this film would have needed throughout to save it from mediocrity. As it is, that scene alone elevates the film above its flaws.

There’s also such a hypocritical irony about this film which kept me from really enjoying it. It’s the story of how the human soul, as represented by soul music, gets shunned in favor of spineless, easily marketed pop music spectacle. Yet, the film itself adores the glittering lights and fancy dance numbers. It champions Effie’s inspiring voice and character, but it wrongly keeps her story residing just beneath the surface. Her moments are unmistakably the most involving parts of the film, but they’re treated as second tier portions of a narrative that highlights the trials of more polished and dull characters like Deena and Curtis. As in the narrative, Effie, the art of the film, gets lost amidst the slick business that puts Deena, and therefore Beyoncé, front and center. Dreamgirls works well as a whirling, fast paced pop musical, but as a sincere film and piece of art, none of its neon lights and high powered sheen can save it from being lackluster.

Grade: B