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Review
Dreamgirls And I Am Telling You...You Are Going...To Cry. by: Reggie Eggert, for Entertainment My number stands at three.
I'm gonna assume everyone knows what Dreamgirls is about and get right to it. Although Jennifer Hudson didn't make me cry, she came damn close. I don't know how the hell I held it together as she pushed out "And I Am Telling You..." I would have been well within my right to cry like a bitch, as there were several seemingly masculine men in my immediate seating area bawling like the doctor just smacked them on the ass. Yet, I fought back the tears, and, frankly, I'm proud of it. Don't know why. Just am. I guess I wanted to feel like I had some control over myself, rather than let Hudson dominate me like she was dominating everyone on that screen and in that theater. Hudson gave the most indescribably lopsided, surreal and intergalactically dominant performance I've ever seen, and probably ever will see. She devoured every scene, and every actor unfortunate enough to be in it, like a fucking Langolier. It surpassed Tyson against Spinks. Jordan V. Blazers. It was even better than my boy John's 300 point game of Double Dribble. All I know is when she sang and those sound waves passed through my body, I felt extremely small and happy, not unlike a child. I had to snap out of that shit before I curled up in the fetal position and started crying. So breathtaking was she, the only other actors that warrant mention in this review are Eddie Murphy, because he brought comic relief and he didn't walk around with a "Jennifer making me look like shit" expression on his face, and Danny Glover, because he's gonna be overlooked for Oscar again, which is a crime. I can see why Jay's girlfriend's mother is so pissed at the attention Hudson is getting in the press. If my daughter's talent was so utterly engulfed by another woman in front of the whole world, I'd be mad, too. Jay's girlfriend's mother prolly saw those first few dailies during production and tried to burn down all them damn sets and shit. I know I woulda done it to save my daughter from taking such a massive and undeniable L. Her daughter was supposed to be the star of the project black actresses and singers have been dreaming about for nearly 20 years and Hudson came outta nowhere--worse than nowhere, she came from fuckin' American Idol--and took her shine. Hudson's Effie White may not be better than Jennifer Holiday's, but that's like saying Godfather II isn't better than the first one. It takes a real asshole to not be a big fan of both. I don't feel like it's blasphemy if one prefers the sequel to the original. I grew up on Holiday's version of "And I Am Telling You...," as it was played relentlessly by my sisters for nearly three years of my early childhood, so I know it's the shit. But, Hudson's, in my opinion, is just as awesome. Still, if you wanna say it's just a hair below, that's fine. I won't argue. The bottomline is J-Hud will be collecting an Oscar in about seven weeks, and I hope that cameraman catches Jay, his girl and her mom looking like they suckin on a rotten lemon during her acceptance speech.
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I have cried during a movie exactly three times in my life. The first time was when Roy Hobbs hit his final homerun in The Natural. He fucked that ball up and busted all those lights, and that damn glorious music started playing, then them sparks began raining down...oh my goodness. I let it all out. I cried with so much joy that I started shaking and shit. AND I CLAPPED! The scene still gives me chills, but I don't cry no more. The second time I cried was when Dae Han begged Tommy Lee's forgiveness for killing his brother in Best of The Best, which could be the greatest martial arts movie ever. After their epic showdown, a defeated and humbled Dae Han told Tommy that he would like to be his brother. Man, when Eric Roberts started crying...GODDAMN!!! All them other grown ass men started crying...sheeeiiiit. That is some touching shit. I will bet my life it's niggas who watched that shit in PRISON and cried. And the last time I cried was fairly recently, when, upon my 15th viewing of The Color Purple, I finally was moved by Ms. Celie being reunited with her kids. I have no idea what took me so long. 