Taking It Home: Precious

("Taking It Home" is an alternative review style in which I share my thoughts on a movie's themes and how they may relate to my life, while focusing less on the acting, writing, technical aspects, or even plot of the film. It's a collection of the ideas I took home, "because the movie experience shouldn't end in the theater".)

The most tragic "happy" ending you'll see in any movie this year...

Sitting through Precious in a movie theater is about as torturous a cinematic experience you can get these days outside of a Saw film. It is the most foul-mouthed, stomach-churning, disturbingly violent film I've seen in 2009, and despite the fact that little blood is actually shed, its characters (Precious in particular) are, along with the audience, beaten to unconscious submission during 110 minutes of unrelenting emotional violation at the hands of director Lee Daniels.

Yes, Precious delivers a knockout, battering us with so much vile depravity that we leave the theater unsure of what we're even supposed to feel, and unable to immediately understand that the abuse has been inflicted on us not to educate or evoke sympathy, but to make a tragic ending appear relatively uplifting. It's been called "unflinchingly gritty" and "brutally realistic" and all kinds of other hyperbole (most are accurate), but the most explicit truth in this film is left out: Precious Jones is dead.

She doesn't die in the film (I assume she doesn't die in the novel by Sapphire, either), but the life expectancy of an illiterate, unemployed, morbidly obese, psychologically traumatized, HIV-positive mother of two in 1987 Harlem was not very high, and it would be nothing short of miraculous if Precious were alive in 2009.

So what, am I criticizing a harsh movie for not being harsh enough? Of course not; I'm no glutton for punishment. But I do think the "real" reality of a story like this is worth discussing in the context of reviews calling it "triumphant", "heart-warming", "improbably beautiful", "exhilarating", and "irresistibly inspirational". To me, that's like calling the ending credits of Schindler's List somehow "uplifting", and I'm flabbergasted by the report that Precious received an unabated 15 minute standing ovation following its premiere at Cannes earlier this year. How could a packed audience have the emotional wherewithal for that kind of immediate response?

 

Anyway, the optimist in me may have wanted to leave Precious feeling encouraged by its ending, but the pessimist in me refuses to acknowledge any light in the horrifying darkness of this film, particularly not in a way that will let it fade away in my mind. No, if any movie needs to be taken home by more people without an easy resolution, it is Precious. (And if you want to call me on a double standard for celebrating Slumdog Millionaire despite its focus on poverty, the only defense I can offer is that I found Precious significantly lacking in human decency, love, hope, cultural insight, and, for lack of a better word, entertainment value.)

At the end of the day, there are two glaring messages that jumped out at me from Precious. The first is that child abuse (particularly of a sexual nature) is unimaginably and permanently traumatizing. Few people could have argued with that point anyway, but the abuse in Precious is so graphically portrayed that no one leaving this film should think of it in the same way again. I think it's worth pointing out that Lee Daniels, Oprah Winfrey, and Tyler Perry (the latter two of whom came on board with distribution money after the film wowed Sundance) were all victims of child abuse, and each has spoken openly about it. Whether they see Precious as some sort of catharsis or not I can't say, but if people are appreciative of Daniels showing things as they really are, well I guess I can understand that hype, as disturbing as it may be.

On the other hand, it would be nice if the glints of hope and love that do exist weren't so overshadowed by the horror. Paula Patton's character, Ms. Rain, is getting almost no ink in the writing about Precious, when I would argue her character deserves some recognition for being the only person to show Precious genuine compassion. Their relationship was admittedly melodramatic at points and a little too reminiscent of Dangerous Minds and Freedom Writers (both inspired by true stories, unlike Precious), but as somebody who spent time teaching in a school where education really was the only way out for some students, I don't overlook the importance of those exchanges.

In fact the only time I even became emotional during Precious was when Ms. Rain told Precious that she loved her. Most audience members probably rolled their eyes, but I absorbed it as the first and only time somebody had ever said those words to Precious in her sixteen years of life. Now that is a devastating realization that has stayed with me, because no human anywhere should have to live that long without hearing those words.

Which brings me to the second message, one I'm afraid Precious inadvertently delivers: that the African-American community can't take care of itself. The issue of racism (a term too often misapplied), at least on the part of Daniels as a filmmaker or artist, is not part of this discussion. But by depicting the most base and extreme aspects of this historically marginalized culture, he threatens to reinforce the conscious stereotypes that some people proudly have and the unconscious stereotypes that the rest of us claim not to have.

In a performance that in my mind is unquestionably the most impressive in 2009, by a man or woman, leading or supporting, Mo'Nique brings to life an absolute monster of a human. It's too believable, unfortunately, and I'm afraid it will be fuel for the fire stoked by those who rail against welfare recipients and unemployed single parents while never taking into consideration any social factors at work, much less cultural roles or historical legacies of class, immigration, and yes, racism. Fact is, the current recession has placed millions of unemployed single parents on welfare (1 in 8 Americans rely on food stamps, according to an NYT article I read yesterday), but only now is it seen as acceptable, and only now, when hard-working blue collar workers in the Heartland need help, are recipients of government aid no longer automatically considered "lazy" and "unskilled".

Sadly, this kind of compassion and understanding has always been missing for the Precious Jones of the world, stuck in a cycle of poverty and abuse and derided by a DIY, pick-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps culture. Well, Precious tried, and it may have given her the hope to survive for a few more years. But life shouldn't be about surviving. It should be about living, and Precious was never able to do that.

What did you take home?