Precious is kind of an asshole. She steals, responds to insults using her fists, is casually homphobic and repeatedly rejects a much younger girl who lives in her building and clearly idolizes her. At the opening of the movie named after this character, she does not have custody of her child, a little girl with Down syndrome she refers to as "Mongo." By the end, she has custody of her daughter and newly born son, news that she has tested positive for HIV, an eighth-grade reading level and no way in the foreseeable future to support her family beyond government assistance. Lee Daniels' movie ends on a weirdly upbeat note, with Precious walking the streets of Harlem with her two children as LaBelle's sunny "It Took a Long Time" blares. It's made to feel like a triumph -- this woman, having now turned her back on her furiously abusive mother and invested herself in education, for the first time in her 16 years on earth has hope -- but really, this giant of a woman is taking mere baby steps.
I'm not trying to beat a beat horse (or obese black girl), just noting my surprise at the work the viewer must put in to actually like Precious throughout the film. I remember liking her even less when I read Push upon its release (I worked at a bookstore and when it came in, had an immediate sense that it was a reimagining of The Color Purple, a book I adore, and found that I was mostly right). Certainly, the movie's job is to make us feel for Precious and understand why she acts the way she does, but there is a surprising lack of hand-holding in the process. Besides an angel of a teacher (Ms. Blue Rain, played by Paula Patton) and a devil of a mother (Mary, as possessed by Mo'Nique), there are no distinct good or bad guys in Precious' world -- just people doing what they can to survive, by whatever shade of gray necessary. (Since I won't get to do so elsewhere, I want to note that Mo'Nique's first-scene monologue that's propelled with a growing sense of anger, as she becomes more enraged by each sentence she spits at Precious, is as much of a force of nature as I've ever seen on film. I don't even feel the need to illustrate how amazing Gabourey Sidibe is during every second of this film.)
After its rapturous response on the festival circuit, Precious received something of a backlash as its release approached. There is a certain faction of the critic population that feels it is obvious, emotional porn, which preys on the sympathy of guilty whites. I'm not really interested in picking through the minutiae, but I do wonder what would have made these people happy. (Just not telling this character's story?) Any serious movie about the lives of black people risks a pandering following, but I'm pretty sure that Sapphire didn't write her book for white people. I'm pretty sure that Lee Daniels wasn't thinking, "All my peoples up in Connecticut are going to flip their shit when they catch my Ntozake Shange reference!" I'm pretty sure that the kind of political correctness those are supposedly exhibiting when they gush about Precious is skin-deep, that your average guilty liberal isn't going to marvel at the breadth of representation of women of color that's going on here. I don't remember the last time I saw a movie that offered so many vivid depictions of black women. (Good Hair, maybe? But then, that's nonfiction.) The all-women alternative-school class Precious attends is full of young women at various phases of their lives with various motivations and levels of humor and cleverness. (Regardless of the state of her literacy, Precious, too, has a wit that sneaks up on you, particularly via her matter-of-fact observations. My favorite comes after watching Ms. Rain and her girlfriend interact: "They talk like TV channels I don't watch.") And then there's the nurturing, gently queer, messianic Ms. Rain, and her boho girlfriend, and the sister-girl-with-a-heart-of-gold Cornrows (played mind-bogglingly well by Sherri Shepherd), and the concerned-to-the-point-of-judgmental Mrs. Weiss (played by Mariah Carey, whose rave reviews most likely result in her being graded on a curve -- that a singer of her stature could dress down and perform competently feels like a revelation compared to similar turns by the Madonnas, Whitneys and Janets of the world). Sure, we can look at Mo'Nique's wellfare-abusing abuser as a stereotype. Maybe even the uneducated, obese survivor from the ghetto that is Precious is one as well. But the movie gives us several alternatives to those types -- we just have to be open to seeing them.
Granted, it's hard to look past the abuse suffered by Precious via Mary. Some find it ridiculous and outrageous. "Ridiculous" and "outrageous," of course, are also very good words to describe the concept of child abuse. To telegraph the hope-destroying atrocity of child abuse, anything less than a pummel to the face is letting the viewer off easy. I love that there is a movie getting so much attention that takes a very explicit look at abuse, because abuse is so readily swept under the rug. Maybe this is the finest consequence of the oversharing turn that our culture has taken: shamelessness has use beyond navel-gazing. The more we talk about this stuff, the more we understand. It's pretty hard to heal when you're embarrassed and I think a film like Precious can help diminish that embarrassment, however slightly.
Besides the hypothetical, Precious' practical purpose fills the screen -- it posits an obese, dark-skinned black woman as a cinematic hero. Even at its most basic quota filling, we cannot underestimate the value of this fact alone. Call me optimistic, but I believe that pop culture has tremendous influence on larger culture's attitude, and any curdle in the homogeneity is hope for tolerance. On casting the role of Precious, Daniels recently told Entertainment Weekly: "I started off by calling Hollywood agents and realized that they don't have these types." Of course not. To escape the bleakness of her situation, Precious frequently daydreams of being a star and thus loved by all. The most beautiful thing about this movie is that for this fleeting pop-culture moment, that dream is a reality.
First!
Thank you for the review.
Posted by: Sally | November 11, 2009 at 02:01 PM
Thank you for this review, and especially your observations on the "guilty white" argument. As a professional performing artist of color myself, I ask the same question you posited over and over:
"...but I do wonder what would have made these people happy. (Just not telling this character's story?)"
Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Posted by: Stephsteph | November 11, 2009 at 02:15 PM
Hi Rich, can you go see & review Richard Kelly's "The Box." So curious what you would think... I almost need your interpretation. You're the man.
Posted by: Keeley | November 11, 2009 at 04:18 PM
I saw this film at Sundance and was completely disturbed. Everyone raved about it to no end, but I know I'll never be able to watch it again. Once was enough. Yes, I thought the actors were fantastic (specifically Gabourey and Mo'Nique - as a side note, I was able to meet both of them and they were incredibly sweet), but the film was not the greatest thing I've ever seen. Thank you for your honest review. :)
Posted by: Pinky Lovejoy | November 11, 2009 at 04:26 PM
I bought several copies of Push when it first came out for my students (I'm a high school librarian). I can't tell you how many copies I've had to replace throughout the years because of wear and tear. It has also caused a lot of controversy and censorship challenges (ironically by teachers), but I have a huge population of black female students who read urban fiction and to see them so excited about a movie because they READ THE BOOK makes confronting book challenges worthwhile. Yes, the story is at times revolting and difficult to read, but it is ultimately hopeful and has given hope to many of my girls who have lived with abuse. Thank you for the review, Rich!!
Posted by: beth | November 11, 2009 at 08:14 PM
can i just say that i'm glad that YOU got the ntozake shange reference!
Posted by: pingilitis | November 11, 2009 at 08:56 PM
I really want to see this, and your review made me even more intrigued. Thank you!
Posted by: Kim | November 11, 2009 at 10:03 PM
Fabulous, nuanced review--i have the worst crush on your brain!
Posted by: Caitlin | November 11, 2009 at 11:09 PM
i just noticed, in lee daniels' brilliant masterwork, shadowboxer, mo'nique plays a character named precious.
sounds like he got a good performance out of her this time. i am curious to see this.
Posted by: candice | November 11, 2009 at 11:54 PM
Great film review - but an even better critic review.
Posted by: sean | November 12, 2009 at 09:07 AM
Once again you prove you're a leterary genius.
Write a book.
You're incredible
Posted by: a | November 12, 2009 at 10:57 AM
Thanks, Rich.... I love you even more. As a black woman who is perpetually annoyed about "white folks" not "getting it".... well I don't even know where I was going with that but I love you much.
Haven't even seen the movie or read the book. I'm an avid reader but something about this story is heartbreaking and going through what I've been going through, even the cover song and trailer make me tear up. I can't seem bring myself to to subject myself to something that's going to make me cry through the entire thing. But your review let me know there are some bright points, so I will stop being a coward, strong black woman up, and check it out... the book AND the movie.
And what you know about ntzoke shange? I've got to go see it just because there's a reference. Thanks!
Posted by: Deedee | November 12, 2009 at 11:10 AM
"It's pretty hard to heal when you're embarrassed and I think a film like Precious can help diminish that embarrassment, however slightly."
Absolutely!
Posted by: Chelle | November 12, 2009 at 11:18 AM
You are awesome Rich. Your reviews are so insanely smart and good.
Posted by: Susan | November 12, 2009 at 03:38 PM
Thank you for this review. Very few mainstream movies interest me (I prefer documentaries - like you!), but I plan to see this one.
Posted by: Monica C. | November 12, 2009 at 05:20 PM
I'm not sure I can stomach seeing this movie. It might be too much like listening to "Luka" by Suzanne Vega. As an ex-child abuse investigator & social worker, it might bring back old memories - ones I'd like to forget. It would just certify to me, that we as a nation, promote these problems, which are too numerous (the promotions) to go into here. But, I think for regular Americans, it's probably a good movie to see. I've seen the promos and interviews and read articles, as well. I want to see it. Maybe I'll watch it in the privacy of my home, when it's offered for rental / iTunes. For now, I hope it educates people about how others subsist.
And Rich, your remark about how everyone's just trying to survive, including the service workers-so right. It's a frustrating system. Everyone makes do, in his/her own way.
Posted by: Vagabondblogger | November 12, 2009 at 06:08 PM
I'm terrified to see this movie, but excited. Not sure I can see it in public, since I predict my turning into a giant, weepy mess.
I read the book years ago for a class and it just killed me. Amazing book, amazing characterizations, and some very hard truths.
In the book, when Precious is abused by her father, she talks about the physical pleasure that comes from it. That is a hard thing to read (and I got slammed in my women's studies class for bringing it up) but it's important and it's true. That's part of what causes the emotional pain and confusion. It's not discussed much, but sapphire was brave enough to put in there, in the character's own words.
Also, great review.
Posted by: Sharon | November 12, 2009 at 08:37 PM
Please do not minimize the people who aren't thrilled with this film. "Black girl who's been raped and impregnated by her father" is a horrifyingly common trope in African-American literature. The mentality that views such media as "poverty porn" is legit and shouldn't be discounted because you fancy yourself enlightened; I'm also not sure that you, as a male, are capable of internalizing the grossness of rape as something that's so casually thrown around as a go-to plot device when a writer wants to achieve a false sort of depth. Do stories like Precious have literary/filmic value? Of course. Is there a need for a different kind of story about black girls? Absolutely.
Posted by: hi | November 13, 2009 at 12:18 AM
Previous commenter (hi), I think you are minimizing the people who are thrilled with this film when you say Rich likes to "fancy himself an intellectual." You can disagree with the views expressed in this review all you want, but I don't think you should mock Rich just because you have a different opinion.
I don't think the rape/incest theme is casually thrown around in this film. This film certainly wasn't made with the intention of cashing in on any desire for "poverty porn."
Posted by: MB | November 14, 2009 at 02:02 AM
Great piece here. I love your comments about Mo'Nique's monologue in the stairwell. I saw the film a second time this weekend almost just to see that scene once again. And her monologue in the film's final scene is right on par. This is one of the best supporting female performance I've ever seen.
Posted by: Danny | November 15, 2009 at 01:48 AM
I just got back from watching the movie and was impressed. The film didn't feel at all exploitative of the circumstances and it was just so raw and powerful it had me feeling for most of the characters.
A side note: "Mongo" was so adorable! It was so mean Precious called her that . . .
Another side note: Even though I didn't agree with everything "hi" wrote, I could see where they were coming from and completely agreed with their final point about the need for different stories about black girls.
Posted by: efren | November 15, 2009 at 04:58 AM
LaBelle is Patti Labelle's last name
Labelle is the group with Patti LaBelle, Nona Hendryx, and Sarah Dash.
Posted by: Mountain Lion | November 15, 2009 at 06:33 AM
I felt the ending was more like Ibsen's A Doll House, in that the only step Precious could make was a baby step. Getting away from her mother is the same thing as Nora slamming the door on her husband and family life. It's a big first step on a path that will be nothing but struggles and pain for the forseeable future.
Posted by: Robert | November 15, 2009 at 11:37 AM
MB, I think hi's only point was the final sentence, just that other types of stories about black women besides tragic lives of poverty and struggle should be popularized as well. How about some nice stories about generally emotionally stable, middle-class accountants living in the suburbs with problems with the in-laws? I'm sorta tired of brilliant commentary on social "issues" anyway. Let's go watch some soccer. The US men's national team lost an exhibition match to Slovakia this weekend and I'm still in mourning.
Posted by: Mike | November 16, 2009 at 12:36 AM
I don't know, maybe I'm just too jaded or read the book along with The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things, but Push read more like Frank McCort or some other put-upon, woe-is-me and I found hilarity in her abuse, pregnancies, and, well, life.
Maybe it won't be so funny when I see people acting it out on the screen . . . like Heart is Deceitful wasn't funny on the screen.
Posted by: jeremy | November 16, 2009 at 09:00 AM