The Reel Critic Dreamgirls

Author: Josh Wessler

The hit Broadway musical "Dreamgirls" makes a flashy transition onto the silver screen in Bill Condon's adaptation. It tells the tale of the beginnings of Motown Records from gospel funk to its national success with smooth R&B. In this loosely fictionalized account, the singing trio named The Dreamettes morph from backup singers for James Early (James Brown?) to headliners named The Dreams (The Supremes?) led by Deena Jones (Diana Ross?). BeyoncÈ is good as Jones, who is catapulted to lead singer of The Dreams, but luckily "Dreamgirls" does not become a diva-fest. The show stoppers are Eddie Murphy as Jimmy Early and newcomer Jennifer Hudson as Effie White. Effie is a stand-in for Florence Ballard, the original lead singer for the Supremes. While it appeared that Hudson had used up her fifteen minutes when she was voted off the island in the show American Idol, her performance in this film proves the old "pop" axiom that being talented and being famous really are two different things. Hudson is magnificent here and it's a good thing she's back in the limelight. In another surprise, Eddie Murphy, who has always been one to light up a screen, does it again while singing (according to my best sources, that's actually his voice).

As Jimmy, Murphy has the persona (and the hair) of a James Brown impersonation (a role many will recognize from the old SNL days), and he helps resuscitate a lagging second-half of the film.

Director Bill Condon put together a loaded supporting cast including a brief appearance from John Lithgow and a mysteriously omnipresent Danny Glover (as Marty Madison, Jimmy's manager), who delivered some of the movie's best lines: "That place is so white you couldn't even get our boys to park the cars."

Because of the film's effort to explore a broader view of Motown's early years, the title "Dreamgirls" borders on being a misnomer (plus, it sounds like a new Fox reality show). In one of the many tasteful departures from the Dreams' saga, we follow Motown's emergence as a label for black singers in response to white singers copying, diluting and cashing in on songs written by black artists. In order to do this, real-life Motown magnate Berry Gordy, portrayed as Curtis Taylor Jr. (Jamie Foxx), had to market his singers for white audiences. Though Foxx is predictably great in this role, thankfully the movie avoids becoming another artist-tragedy such as "Ray" or "Walk the Line" (good movies, but enough already). To achieve the success that his label does, Curtis treats his singers, with some of whom he is intimate, as commercial products. While Curtis tries to get Jimmy to write a pop hook that kids could cruise to in their cars, Marty retorts, "Jimmy's fans like taking the bus." Curtis's commandeering style of management threatens the singers' identities as artists. With very little creative control, to what extent can a singer who is limited to performing someone else's songs consider him or herself an artist? Considering the current tragic state of teen pop music (Ashlee Simpson's lip-synching fiasco), this question is especially relevant today.

Though the union between film and musical has a rough history, it is surprisingly successful here. Most of the musical numbers are limited to stage performances and those that are not manage to flow well with the film's narrative. The expansive staging of the song-and-dance numbers is reminiscent of a bloated award ceremony, but as The Dreams' imagined glories get tripped up by personal drama and legalities, the looming monolith of the stage becomes their only friend. The movie is the opposite of "Moulin Rouge," with its overproduction and seizure-inducing editing. "Dreamgirls" stages a humble theatre production in the old-school Hollywood style, albeit with a palm outstretched for Oscar.