I’m pleased to say when I am wrong, especially when it means enjoying a movie, and I Can Do Bad All By Myself is far and away the best Tyler Perry movie I have seen!
Going back to Madea Goes to Jail… It’s by no means the worst Perry movie – though I’m not sure which one exactly is – but it sort of represents Perry bottoming out. This is odd, because the individual ingredients of Goes to Jail are themselves decent, but it’s the most artless merging of comedy and drama imaginable. It highlights the fundamental tonal problem with Perry’s work, and it fails more by being an attempt to over-utilize Madea Simmons, Perry’s irascible comic grandmother. It’s against Perry’s personal instincts to do pure comedy, when he mostly loves marrying it with sincere melodrama, and divorcing those distinct personalities so wholly was clearly uncomfortable for him.
Now, about I Can Do Bad All By Myself (or ICDBABM, which sounds like a ballistic missile)… On paper, it seems just as stagnated as Perry’s lesser efforts: Yes another adaptation of one of his plays, following the same formula as always – see Madea’s Family Reunion for perhaps the strongest manifestation of that formula. But apart from a shared name, ICDBABM is actually an original work, made specifically for the cinema – so Perry’s direction is more immediate, more honest, as he finds a way to remain in his formulaic comfort zone, yet still evolve as an artist.
Of greatest interest from my perspective, Perry has learned how to use Madea (and his comedy as a whole) far more elegantly. Madea remains the comic relief, same as always, except now she’s truly a relief. She’s our direct access into today’s isolated dramatics – needed, since audiences come primarily for Madea’s antics, and stay for the heart-warming drama. So jumping right in, one night Madea finds three children downstairs trying to steal her VCR and other Georgia valuables. When asked, these urchins (Kwesi Boakye, Freddy Siglar, Hope Olaidè Wilson) cannot account for their mother – who’s long dead (of a crack addiction, the standard Tragic Past™ of all Perry’s personas) – nor their current grandmother guardian. And it’s nicely efficient, how this gets Madea tied up with needy people who aren’t a part of her ridiculously extended family – Any chance to escape Madea’s relatives, especially the Browns (whom we met in Meet the Browns, then grew sick of in Goes to Jail), is most welcome. (The like-titled play revels in the Browns, so were really dodged a bullet with this one – unfunnier versions of the intermittently funny Madea that they are.)
Once Madea has deposited the three little beasts off at their nearest kin, April (Taraji P. Henson, a singer and Academy Award nominee – for Benjamin Button), she goes on her separate way. This isn’t the end of Madea’s presence, but she’s inadvertently served as master of ceremonies into our main plot.
Saying my peace on Madea, she remains a minor presence, a surrogate mother figure for the children. They briefly work for her, paying off the damages from their botched robbery. And most importantly (as Madea is relief), whenever dramatics in the to-be-discussed main plot become too much, the kids seek Madea’s solace. Thus she gets to run through her regular routine – dispensing foolishly knowing wisdom, arguing with pothead brother Joe (who is played, like Madea, by Perry in full “SNL” mode), otherwise running through low but effective comedy (be it ethnic, fart or stoner). Perry’s comedic instincts have improved dramatically, best exemplified by an extended misrepresentation of the Life of Christ, which anachronizes up all biblical figures, and also somehow Sigfried & Roy and something called “Cedric the Billy Goat” (presumably one of the “Twelve Disciplines”).
Like I said, this is relief, for the home situation Madea has foisted these three random children on is pretty trying. And most amazingly, it’s a genuine drama…not melodrama, drama! Perry has grown beyond his farcically plotted pseudo-realistic grotesqueries, and so April (the kids’ aunt, it must be said) emerges as the most fascinating Perry character I’ve come across.
Structurally, April is the usual Perry heroine, in a go-nowhere relationship with an unmistakable villain, soon romanced by an alarmingly decent man, seeking to fix her life. But it’s all presented with more finesse than usual. April is not a symbolic cipher, awaiting plot convolutions to rescue her from fate; she is a deeply flawed person, whose problems are entirely of her own doing. (It all falls back to that title, I Can Do Bad All By Myself, which – when translated into “white” – can be rendered as I Suck Without Your Help.)
April’s circumstance is presented with respectable efficiency. She sings at the Club Indigo (an easy way for Perry to justify the jazz clubs he’d give us anyway). She is in an affair with married man Randy (Brian White, also of Perry’s Daddy’s Little Girls). She’s regularly drunk. Otherwise, literally all of April’s time is spent asleep in bed, all day long. It’s kind of an over-literal representation of her inner turmoil, but it’s far more elegant than the external struggles we normally get. And with all this, she’s barely prepared to care for her sister’s children – and as circumstances develop, it’s clear April is the only person these kids have, lest they get split up into foster homes.
Against all of April’s woozy protestations, her young charges shall be the catalyst for her turnaround. For now, though, let’s look at Randy – the designated obvious villain paramour. The type is a character-as-plot-device, and Perry has become self-aware enough to whittle away those characteristics which no longer work now the “melo” has been dropped. So Randy isn’t wealthy, isn’t a long-term prospect for April…he’s just an asshole. Minus that soap opera baggage, Randy’s villainy resembles a real world version of domestic terrorism…Perry does well to serve his audience with dramatized familial issues like this.
And while with time we get April’s vengeance, her turnaround abuse and even bathtub torture (incredibly similar to Diary of a Mad Black Woman), it seems Perry’s grown aware of his double-standard regarding inter-gender violence…When April threatens to murder a bathing Randy with her radio, we’re not meant to cheer her liberation, but fear she’s hit rock bottom. It’s a nicely self-critical move on Perry’s part, and he emerges a stronger artist for correcting some of his former problems.
Randy’s counterpart is good man Sandino (Adam Rodriguez). Perry corrects his former faults with this type as well, losing all of the fantasy world perfections he’d formerly wallowed in. Sandino is a refreshingly believable guy, who just happens to be decent. Hell, he doesn’t even conform to Perry’s standard of male beauty…at least, not until he shaves. Then Sandino retains Perry’s beloved perma-stubble, though he still differs from his formers by being unmistakably Hispanic (Columbian, to be specific, but don’t tell Randy) rather than just a light-skinned black guy. Perhaps it’s penance for all the evil Latinas we’ve gotten before – except for the always-vivacious Sofia Vergara (not seen today), who’s never come off poorly.
Knowing Perry’s formula, it’s evident Sandino is destined to fall in love with April, and vice versa…oh, and they’ll get married at the end, because Perry remains resolute in his condemnation of extramarital affairs. For the time being, there’s no evidence of this inevitability, without reference to the greater Perry meta narrative. Rather, Sandino is just a recently-immigrated handyman put up by the church in April’s basement, who takes a liking to her three itinerant minors even when she won’t and –
The church! That deserves some focus. It’s been no secret ever since Perry’s first play (let alone movie) that he’s a devout Christian, and unafraid to depict the faith in his films. I approve of this impulse, even when Perry’s artistry isn’t grand enough to really do it justice. It’s a moral stance which is refreshingly bold, and a major reason for Perry’s guaranteed niche audience. Having said all that, I’ve been surprised at how little faith has played into his films in the interim between Diary and Myself. Oh, there’s still been some chuchiness on hand, but just habitual references, not a dedicated place in the narrative.
…Well, ICDBABM restores the balance, making the church at least as powerful a presence as Madea herself…actually, a far huger entity than she, fat suit and all. As represented by Pastor Brian (Marvin Winans, actual gospel singer), the church is a major part in April’s slow reconstruction. This is a simpler message than the occasional “faith in sassy black women of a specific generation” platitude Perry sometimes delivers, and not as reductive. You might agree with Perry’s basic religiousness, you may not, but this angle certainly serves him well.
There’s not a lot more to say specifically about April’s restoration, for a simple character drama like this one oughtn’t to be heavy on the plot. Rather, I’ll ask you this: Seems like there’s been a decent smattering of singers in the cast, right? And that’s without me even pointing out that Gladys Knight is loitering around! Oh, and Mary J. Blige too – who’s apparently more successful than Whitney Houston, Janet Jackson and Mariah Carey, if Wikipedia is to be believed. Why’s my white ass never heard of her?!
Oh, there’s a reason for all these singers! It’s a part of the patented, FDA-approved Tyler Perry Formula. Only we’ve never seen it before, if we’re only limiting ourselves to the movies, but his plays also double as musicals. Each features a strong eight or so recycled R&B/gospel standards, and ICDBABM follows suit…In fact, to my utmost surprise, this movie is a musical, rare in our days, with every song totally justified within the film (a club performance, a church worship, etc.).
I say, Perry has discovered the way to most efficiently communicate his emotions directly to us. Many of his former works boast that beginning playwright’s best friend, the overlong monologue (which ICDBABM doesn’t boast, but for Madea’s aforementioned Bible tirade, which is acceptable for its jokiness). Perry the movie director now learns this medium’s ropes, and presents emotional change through song instead – it’s a non-verbal technique, and ICDBABM is a fine repository for soulful musical performances even if you’re uninterested in the underlying dramatic/comic framework.
A great deal of the movie’s running time is taken up with songs, which do a good job of eating up minutes that might otherwise be inhabited by inappropriate non sequitur Madea routines. It’s an easy-going approach, and Perry does a good job of letting the performers do their thing. He is not particularly equipped with a visual acumen – between that and a recurring comic side character, Perry really is like the Kevin Smith for middle-aged black women – so Perry is wise to utilize his stage-honed skills with actors instead. Of course, what I’m enjoying most about these latter Perry movies might be just what others dislike about his ouvre – it helps to watch these on a Sunday (as I just did, regardless of whatever day this ends up getting posted on…Saturday), and to be unironically receptive to Perry’s general decency. With prolonged exposure, I’ve learned to accept some of his idiosyncratic deficiencies, for the result is forever interesting.
Then again, even with some renewed vigor, it’s hard to find new things to say about these movies. Either they work for ya, or they don’t; if they do, you’re likely already a fan, and that’s all there is to it.
What’s interesting to me now, on the eve of Madea’s Big Happy Family (can you feel it in the air?) is how this series can be thought of specifically as the Madea Simmons franchise. Even though I’ve spent the majority of my energies examining Madealess dramatics, I’m starting to feel that she defines these movies nonetheless. For Tyler Perry’s filmography is defined by hope, even when 95% of the running time is mired in seemingly insurmountable personal ordeals and other such nonsense. Having Madea as a dichotomous lens through which to view those hardships promises a turnaround. She may seem completely out of place with the dramatic tone – a fat-suited cross-dressing outdated Mammy stereotype trafficking in archaic buffoonery and honking perpetually like a goose doesn’t quite fit in with gritty ghetto dramas – but with greater control over his films, that’s entirely Perry’s point.
With today’s sermon (er, the movie’s message) concerning Job and the nature of suffering under a loving God (love too is featured strongly, in a nicely parallel manner), let’s talk about Good and Evil. It is often said one extreme is best highlighted in contrast to the other. With storytelling in general usually so unable to dramatize goodness, having Madea as the “good” is useful. She’s not simply a drama-free variation on the “evil” dramatics our heroines must overcome; she inhabits a wholly different genre! Her comedy becomes funnier when artfully contrasted with temporary suffering (a hard balance to pull off). Madea, for all her contradictory sins and ignorance and ridiculousness, represents a constant ideal for our transitory protagonists to aspire towards. And now I’m officially reading too much into Tyler Perry movies.
RELATED POSTS:
• No. 1 Diary of a Mad Black Woman (2005)
• No. 2 Madea's Family Reunion (2006)
• No. 3 Meet the Browns (2008)
• No. 4 Madea Goes to Jail (2009)
• No. 6 Madea's Big Happy Family (2011)
No comments:
Post a Comment