‘The Color Purple’ review: Dir. Blitz Bazawule (2024)

Alice Walker’s The Color Purple has had quite the journey since its first publication in 1982. Walker’s searing odyssey charting the life and hardships of Celie, an African American woman living in Georgia at the start of the 20th century immediately garnered worldwide acclaim and attention. It won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction and became a target of censorship both in America and in other countries across the globe.  

Being the sensation that it was, a film adaption quickly followed, made by none other than Steven Spielberg in 1985, and it was also met with both acclaim and criticism, mainly directed towards Speilberg and the question of whether he was the right fit for the material – even he was honest about the limitations of his perspective on the material. It is a pretty straightforward, handsome yet somewhat sanitised adaptation that did, however, cement the star power and talents of its excellent cast, which included both Whoopi Goldberg and Oprah Winfrey in their first major film roles. 

The story has continued to resonate for generations, by readers and audiences, both on the big screen and the stage, as Walker’s text was once again adapted for Broadway as a musical., opening in 2005 and winning a Tony for its revival in 2015. That show has led to another take of Celie’s 40-odd year journey for the big screen, and the results are much closer to Spielberg’s take than one might believe. 

Much of the bones of the story remain the same as Spielberg’s take on Walker’s novel, charting Celie’s (played by Phylicia Pearl Mapsi and Fantasia Barrino) life as she leaves her abusive father (Deon Cole), only to be married off to the equally debasing Msiter (Colman Dolmingo) and separated from her beloved sister, Nettie (Halle Bailey and Clara). We see Celie’s struggles to find her voice and a sense of self-love, and the connection and inspiration she finds from the women in her life, from the headstrong Sofia (Danielle Brooks) and free-spirited singer Shug Avery (Taraji P. Henson).

While certain elements of Walker’s novel are given more room to breathe here, namely Celei’s time with Shug away from Mister, her flourishing independence in the latter third and Nettie’s experiences in Africa, it’s surprising how much this stays close to Spielberg’s take. Celie’s queer identity and romantic relationship with Shug is disappointingly reduced similarly to it was in ‘85, while some of the rawer moments never quite ring as true as Spielberg’s blocking and more straightforward depiction of events. 

Full-hearted performances and clear passion on display across all departments. 

However, while it is disappointing that this is ultimately an even more sanitised version of Walker’s novel than the film that came before, it is somewhat easier to swallow thanks to the fact that it is a musical. That broader approach to stating emotion and expression is inherently part and parcel of the form, and it allows the heart of the story to soar in all the right places. Some of the musical sequences may hew a bit too closely to Broadway designs (the songs themselves range from toe-tapping to fairly forgettable) – but director Blitz Bazawule knows how to highlight the vibrant choreography and characters within the Georgia landscape to kinetic effect. The film is bright and colourful throughout, which does make it all feel a bit too squeaky clean given some of the darker corners of the material. But the sequences succeed more than they flop, offering a window into Celie’s interiority in a fantastical fashion.

Another thing this shares with Speilberg’s film in a more positive way is the calibre of its performers. Fantasia Barrino makes the transition from playing Celie on stage to screen with aplomb, crafting Celie’s emotional arc with care and delicacy, and fittingly rage when needed. Henson is as charismatic Avery, even if that relationship doesn’t register as strongly as you might hope. The standout however is the turn from Danielle Brooks, similarly carrying on the role she played on stage. Her Sofia is a barnstormer, full of charming bravado; it is hard to take your eyes off her whenever she is on the screen. 

Celie’s journey is one that tugs at the heartstrings effortlessly, a tale of one woman’s perseverance in the face of adversity and trauma, fighting for her place in a world where the odds are against her through no fault of her own. It makes any version of The Color Purple a powerful experience, and when this hits its high notes, it is very hard to deny its impact on your soul and spirit. It makes the flaws – particularly those also present in 1985 – even more frustrating to deal with. Yet, come its highly emotional finale, you can’t help but be swayed, thanks in no small part to the full-hearted performances and clear passion on display across all departments. 

The Color Purple is now in cinemas.