Gabourey Sidibe

  • Antebellum (2020)

    (On Cable TV, July 2022) There’s no frustration quite like giving a disappointed review to a film that has its social conscience at the right place. It’s repulsive that we would need a full-throated denunciation of the evils of American slavery in 2022, but, well; here we are. Given this, the opening moments of Antebellum pack a punch, graphically portraying plantation slavery and then revealing that a modern, well-educated black woman is among the slaves. It’s after that strong opening that the film goes into a tailspin. Much of the problem is that, beyond a provocative premise, the film runs out of plot very quickly—Antebellum is a Twilight Zone episode stretched over 115 minutes, and the hollowness of its execution quickly becomes apparent as it moves to the “modern” day and spends far too much time establishing irrelevant subplots and characters. It doesn’t help that the script can’t follow up its premise with something interesting—it takes the cheapest, least imaginative road to its conclusion. Antebellum being a black horror story, it goes without saying that the white characters are irremediably, cartoonishly evil here—even if Jena Malone does have an interesting role as Queen Racist. Never mind the practicalities of their plan! Janelle Monáe is good within the confines of her role, while Gabourey Sidibe is tremendously fun to watch but plays a useless character. Antebellum cheapens its most distasteful moments by having nowhere to go—when so much of the film doesn’t have a reason for existing, it becomes much harder to justify the exploitation of its most striking moments—especially by the time the third act rolls round. There are about a dozen more interesting, substantial and wittier directions the film could have gone, but in the end, it retreats to cheap shots, empty empowerment slogans, excruciatingly executed obviousness and filler material for more than half its length. Much to my dismay, Antebellum is a thriller that should have been science fiction, or a film that should have been an episode, or knee-jerk cheap horror that should have been nuanced systemic drama—anything but what it is right now.

  • Precious (2009)

    Precious (2009)

    (In theatres, February 2010) There are movies that I see coming with weary resignation.  As a confirmed Oscar junkie, I make an effort to see at least the triple-nominees and up, even though I may have no interest whatsoever in the film itself.  So it is that heart-warming tales about grossly overweight uneducated Harlem single mom really aren’t the kind of film I would willingly see for myself.  But from time to time, I get surprised, as so it is that Precious is a bit better than I expected it to be.  The lead character’s rich inner life, competently portrayed by director Lee Daniels, makes this film a bit more spectacular than the usual terrible-life-of-the-week that one could expect.  (There’s one “learning” scene, in particular, that features a generous amount of special effects)  The film’s main claim to fame, though, is the decidedly unglamorous way it treats its actors, nearly all of whom can be praised for emotionally raw performances.  Gabourey Sidibe is a revelation in the lead role, but Mo’Nique and Mariah Carey also earn attention for roles that are as far away from their usual screen personae as could be.  (Lenny Kravitz also has a glorified cameo.)  We come to expect so little from the circumstances of the film that we’re pleasantly surprised when it ends on the smallest of victories.  In some ways, Precious deals with its subject with the knowledge that we have seen (or felt) this story many, many times before, and it’s what it does to distinguish itself from this familiarity (by flights of fancy, by unflinching acknowledgement of reality) that make it worthwhile.  It’s still not my kind of film, but it’s about as good as that kind ever gets.