When Spike Lee first saw this Spielberg's film of The Color Purple, he noted in his journal "He's Gotta Have It" a complaint that Mister (Danny Glover) - while shown to be a product of his mean father, and somewhat redeemed from a distance - is portrayed as a menacing figure without explicitly showing cause and effect that sources his anger and rage back to the white men that keep him down. If this matter were addressed in filming, the movie would not be improved by it. This perspective "look what the white man made me do" does not allow Mister to own his mistreatment of Celie, the character from whose perspective the story is told so effectively both in the Alice Walker book and the Spielberg film.
If discussing this film with a lesbian movie fan, she may be dismissive of it and eventually reveal her disappointment that the intimacy with Shug is not more overtly sexual. Even though it would stick out like a sore thumb in the more tender and spiritual-focused film as a whole. As Celie eases into a sense of self respect and value, the film avoids what would read on screen as a diminishing of that into sexual terms. The focus of the story and narrative is right.
My own fear any time I consider watching this film yet again is that the emotion can sneak up on the viewer and if Spielberg wants the us to well up it will most likely happen. Some call that manipulation. I call it effective and engaging film making. Steven Spielberg directs the attention of the audience with care, introducing scene transitions he had not attempted before in his work and carrying us from exuberant moments to trauma and uplift. Spielberg's love of cinema and the craft of directing does come first, as people are divided as to the repeated use of western movie head-turns and slow takes before a punch is thrown. This is used to comic effect in most cases, though the most provoked and consequential punches thrown are off camera or obscured in the moment of impact. We may see the moment before, and feel the inevitability, and the aftermath and consequences. Even with Quincy Jones taking over the music from John Williams, there is an aesthetic of emotion that is palpable from the start. The separation of two sisters can be as jarring and shattering as a shark attack. Watching this film decades later, the way characters are presented allows you to see Celie without remembering Whoopie as a host of The View and Danny Glover without being distracted by the legacy of Lethal Weapon. Oprah Winfrey going through the indignities her character endures lends resonance to it all because of her iconic status. To various degrees, this can be said of many now familiar faces in the film. In the hands of a lesser director, a straightforward recording of the content might be too uncommitted. Steven Spielberg takes the mundane and the gentle and makes it just enough larger than life that it finds emotional truth.
If discussing this film with a lesbian movie fan, she may be dismissive of it and eventually reveal her disappointment that the intimacy with Shug is not more overtly sexual. Even though it would stick out like a sore thumb in the more tender and spiritual-focused film as a whole. As Celie eases into a sense of self respect and value, the film avoids what would read on screen as a diminishing of that into sexual terms. The focus of the story and narrative is right.
My own fear any time I consider watching this film yet again is that the emotion can sneak up on the viewer and if Spielberg wants the us to well up it will most likely happen. Some call that manipulation. I call it effective and engaging film making. Steven Spielberg directs the attention of the audience with care, introducing scene transitions he had not attempted before in his work and carrying us from exuberant moments to trauma and uplift. Spielberg's love of cinema and the craft of directing does come first, as people are divided as to the repeated use of western movie head-turns and slow takes before a punch is thrown. This is used to comic effect in most cases, though the most provoked and consequential punches thrown are off camera or obscured in the moment of impact. We may see the moment before, and feel the inevitability, and the aftermath and consequences. Even with Quincy Jones taking over the music from John Williams, there is an aesthetic of emotion that is palpable from the start. The separation of two sisters can be as jarring and shattering as a shark attack. Watching this film decades later, the way characters are presented allows you to see Celie without remembering Whoopie as a host of The View and Danny Glover without being distracted by the legacy of Lethal Weapon. Oprah Winfrey going through the indignities her character endures lends resonance to it all because of her iconic status. To various degrees, this can be said of many now familiar faces in the film. In the hands of a lesser director, a straightforward recording of the content might be too uncommitted. Steven Spielberg takes the mundane and the gentle and makes it just enough larger than life that it finds emotional truth.