Precious gets the treatment

Precious, Based on The Novel Push By Sapphire. I actually like saying the whole thing. There is a sense of respect in it. And this movie commands my respect. It is as fine a movie in all respects of film-making that I have seen in a long time.

THE ACTORS: Every actor hit her/his mark pitch perfect. Gabourey Sidibe deserves all the attention she’s getting. She nailed the dull affect of a severely abused child. I know she was acting because I saw her at the Oscars ™, and she is anything but dull. As Precious, Gabourey embodies the sparkle of obstinate hope as easily as the desperation and consternation of her predicament. But in the end, I believe Gabourey is too much for American Cinema, I fear she will be forever offered roles as the abused fat girl who defies oppression. She has so much more than that to offer. Someone said Mariah Carey was in this movie. Really? I didn’t see her. I have no use for Mariah Carey as a singer or a celebrity crazy. Has it really taken her this long to make it to acting? (OK, she’s been in a handful of screen roles, but did anyone here see “Wisegirls?” I didn’t think so.) I could not believe my eyes. I thought maybe they found a social worker and barred her from the makeup trailer. (btw, there’s a special heaven for social workers who work with kids. They often see the worst the world has to offer and they keep getting up and going to work anyway.) I was floored by her performance. And Mo’Nique, blah blah blah Oscar worthy, blah blah blah. Is there anything she can’t do?

THE CINEMATOGRAPHY. The sets, the shots, the editing, all of the art of this film created poetry. Everything we need to know about disassociative coping mechanisms is in the filming: jagged moments of jumpy time, off balance vertigo, 3rd person perspective of the horror we live through. There was so much poetry in the film. The shot on Precious’ first day at the alternative school, she’s sitting on the chair, her teacher is leaning against the wall in the hallway, waiting, each is in focus, neither can see the other… poetry.

THE PLOT. The best thing about the movie was the overall treatment of the characters and the abuse. This movie does not dwell, does not drip, does not linger in the pain, nor does it over-elevate the joy. The best thing about this movie is what it lacks: sentimentality. Precious is honest, a bare bones story about all the factors that come into play to create the culture of a family in pain. I was nowhere near as devastated as I thought I was going to be leaving the theater. I never once felt manipulated. Sure, I flinched. Sure, I gaped in horror. Sure, I cried. But those emotions didn’t rule me. Precious has more dignity than that.

The scene that has stayed with me, was the most chilling to watch, was the scene when the school counselor is ringing the bell, and Precious has to answer the squawk box, and all the while her mother is hiss/whispering “Make that bitch go away.” The quiet hostility of her mother gave me shivers. Watching Precious being forced to be the adult angered me. Watching Precious become complicit in her own isolation and helplessness made me cry. And yet, that scene was the pivot point of the film, it was out of that interaction over the squawk box, while her mother hissed at her, that Precious got the information that led her into a new appreciation for herself.

The last thing I want to mention is the role of race in this film. Yes, this film is about a black family, in a black neighborhood. Also, it is about women. Do not be fooled. This movie is about the universal themes of love, loss, pain, desperation, hope, redemption, and transformation. These themes are found in all great literature, from Antigone to Moby Dick to The Color Purple to The God of Small Things. The experiences, attitudes, and crimes of this film are not limited to any race, class, or gender. Nor are the redeeming qualities of hope and transformation. Race is the context for this film, not the major story. I take this as a sign of recovery. The mainstream (read: white culture) can begin to receive stories about black people without having to exaggerate the importance of race to the exclusion of all else. Certainly our individual experiences in this world are informed and impacted by attitudes about race, class and gender, but our individual identities are not limited to those experiences or biases. This is the difference between context and content. I am happy to see our focus firmly set on content.