Though popular wisdom would probably bestow this title on Avatar, there was no film released last year that more effectively polarized audiences than Precious (which is widely theorized to have been based on the novel Push by Sapphire). On the one side of the aisle, there were several prominent critics hailing it as a breakthrough film that dealt with issues such as AIDS, incest, and poverty in a way that was challenging but not patronizing, and giving voice to a population that does not frequently star in their own movies (i.e. poor black women). On the other, you have people (such as our own Arya Ponto) claiming that the film turns life in black America into a sort of carnival freak show for the amusement and pity of a larger white audience, as well as a crudely made film that would not be receiving the attention that it did were it not a direct strike at the guilt of the white middle class. In reality there’s probably some truth to all of these charges, even if they lay more in the eye of those with very specific notions of how the world works than with the actual narrative politics of this story about big girls, and how they need love, too.
For those of you who don’t know, Precious is the moniker ascribed to an overweight girl in Harlem (Gabourey Sidibe), who, at the age of 15, is pregnant with her second child, both of which are the result of incestuous rape at the hands of her father. Her mother, Mary (Mo’nique), is a more horrific stereotype of a welfare queen than any seen in movies since Million Dollar Baby, and is constantly telling Precious that she should never try to do any better than that, as well as blaming her for stealing her man away from her. After some help from a public school official, Precious finds her way into the care of Miss Rain (Paula Patton), probably the first supportive figure that Precious has ever had in her life. Through interactions with her, as well as social worker Mrs. Weiss (Mariah Carey) and Nurse John (Lenny Kravitz), Precious gradually comes to accept herself for who she is.
Given the inherently caustic nature of a great deal of the film’s imagery, it’s unsurprising that the film has invoked the kind of response that it has. The film’s vision of black poverty is indeed harrowing, and despite the film’s spirit of self-discovery and empowerment, not entirely hopeful, so it could easily play into the hands of political opportunists who were looking to make large, general statements about the black community in America. But then again, those statements (and there have been a number of them, including voices of protest within the black community who object to being portrayed in such a way) tend to indicate more about the world view of those making them than it does about the film itself. It’s certainly possible that upper class liberal audiences have embraced this film as a latter day Uncle Tom cause célèbre, but that doesn’t mean that it’s the only way that the film can be viewed, or that there is necessarily a ‘right answer’ when asking questions about minority representation in film. Certainly, in a different film going environment, Precious might not have made the splash that it did, among critics or audiences.
But politics aside (and with a film like this, it really is hard to put politics aside), I really did find a lot to like about Precious. To the credit of its detractors however, it is very rough around the edges. The rape sequence could only be described as overdone, as if we could not be trusted to know that it was horrible on our own. There are a few short fantasy sequences that would seem patently awful, were they not somewhat believable in context. With that in mind, it’s important to remember that art serves a number of purposes in our society, and only one of them is to impress smarty-pants film critics like myself, and another is to speak to the experiences of those who are otherwise voiceless. Every step of the way, Precious struck me as a deeply felt film, and one always has to sacrifice something in the way of sophistication for raw feeling. Whether or not you’ll be able to follow it where it goes depends on a number of factors, only a few of which are based on the race and class issues that commentators have brought up.
It’s understandable that people might not be able to see past the social bluster to Precious’s core, which is, as far as I can tell, wholly sincere; it’s simply front and center in a national discussion over race representation that has finally made it to national headlines in the year 2009. But that's not entirely Precious's fault, and it's important to remember the terms that it actually sets for itself as a film that has the guts to place its 'feel good' values in an environment where it is exceptionally difficult to feel good. To its credit, it never takes the easy way out.
Blu-ray Bonus Features
Audio Commentary with Director Lee Daniels
From Push to Precious-Sapphire, the author of Push, discusses the creative process of writing the book
A Precious Ensemble-A reflection on the casting process.
Oprah and Tyler: A Project of Passion-Another series of reflections on the film.
A Conversation with Author Sapphire and Director Lee Daniels
Audition: Gabourey Sidibe
Deleted Scene: The Incest Survivor Meeting
Reflections on Precious-Brief Thoughts from Lee Daniels, Gabby Sidibe, and Paula Patton
Theatrical Trailer
"Precious: Based on the Novel 'Push' by Sapphire (Blu-ray)" is on sale March 9, 2010 and is rated R. Drama. Directed by Lee Daniels. Written by Geoffrey Fletcher (Screenplay), Sapphire (Novel). Starring Gabourey Sidibe, Lenny Kravitz, Mariah Carey, MoNique, Paula Patton.
