Trigger warning—for like, everything.
Celie is a young African-American girl in rural Georgia. It’s the beginning of the 20th century and she’s subject to frequent rapes from her father, from which she has had two children (with both taken from her). She is essentially given away to Albert “Mister” Johnson, a widower in search for a girl to take care of his kids. The target of constant abuse from the Johnson family (and rape from Albert) Celie’s only joy is being taught to read by her sister Nettie. When Nettie flees (after a rape-attempt by Albert…yup, seriously), Celie is lost. With no confidence, self-care, or self-worth, Celie tends to her chores until a series of female friendships teach her self respect. There’s Sofia, a boisterous, proud matriarch and Shug Avery, a lovely, confident showgirl and jazz singer. Though each friendship begins on rocky grounds, they grow and begin to fortify Celie. When she learns that Albert has been hiding away letters from Nettie, Celie frees herself from his abusive grasp. Independent and kind, Celie builds a new life with the women she loves.
Though a treacherous slog of incest, rape, pedophilia, poverty, racism, and sexism, this film sticks the landing as a rather inspiring tale. The film exudes values such as self-respect, courage, the emboldening nature of reading, and surrounding yourself with the people who believe in you and love you. Steven Spielberg’s eye (yes, he directed this!) crafted an authentic feeling time and place I’ve never-before seen and Whoopi Goldberg, Oprah Winfrey, and Margaret Avery built rich and complex characters to inhabit the space. Whoopi blew me away. Like, I’m used to comedian-talkshow Whoopi. Sure, there’s Guinan, but Celie was a next-level performance, with complexity, subtlety, and raw emotion.
35 years on, modernity has brought with it new criticisms. Some critique the subdued portrayal of Celie’s homosexual awakening. This film has also been mentioned in a conversation about “who can tell black stories”, as Steven Spielberg is, well—super white. While interesting, I can’t help but reflect on Spielberg’s mastery of the medium and respect for the content. He, along with an incredibly talented cast and crew, told a story so rightfully unsavory-and-yet-inspiring that I found myself buying in to the point of tears. It’s a rough watch. I probably won’t watch again. But I’m glad I did.