Dreamgirls vs Almost Famous

Florence Ballard was the original lead singer of the Supremes, but soon she was relegated to the role of “other girl” when it was decided that Diana Ross, the more photogenic, sweeter-voiced Supreme, would increase the group’s crossover potential by standing front and center. Before long, Florence was out of the group altogether, and they were known as Diana Ross and the Supremes. And then Diana was solo, making movies, and considered a Motown legend. Florence Ballard died at 32, penniless.

Effie White was the original lead singer of the Dreams, but soon she was put in the background when it was decided that Deena Jones, the more photogenic, sweeter-voiced Dream would increase the group’s crossover potential by standing front and center. Before long, Effie was out of the group altogether, and they were known as Deena Jones and the Dreams. And then Deena was solo, etc, etc. Oh, and Deena was sleeping with the group’s manager, much as Diana Ross slept with Berry Gordy Jr.

But read any interviews with anyone behind the creation of Dreamgirls, and they will tell you emphatically that it is not the story of The Supremes. Whatever you say, anyone behind the creation of Dreamgirls.

Dreamgirls is maybe not about The Supremes, but I would wager it’s more about The Supremes than The Rose is about Janis Joplin or even Man on the Moon is about Andy Kaufman. I suppose the point is that it’s about The Supremes, but not just The Supremes. Dreamgirls is about The Supremes, and Motown, and James Brown, and Ike and Tina Turner, and Marvin Gaye. It’s about R&B music, Disco, and blaxploitation movies. It’s about What’s Going On, and I Will Survive, and The Wiz. What surprised me the most is that it’s about race relations in the 1960s and 1970s, and how much music played into them. (A lot, in case you were wondering. Diana Ross appealing so strongly to white households contributed more to the civil rights movement than we realize. It sucked for the Florence Ballards of the world, but for the Jennifer Hudsons, Beyonce Knowelses and Anika Noni Roses, it’s pretty frickin’ sweet.)

Dreamgirls was directed by Bill Condon, and I’ve not seen the stage production on which it’s based, so I’m giving Condon the credit for creating, in Dreamgirls, one of the strongest modern musicals. Keep in mind, I’ve only seen a few, but compared to Dreamgirls, the others are slight; the kinds of movies critics of musicals say they all are. Dreamgirls is different. It is fun and fluffy in spots, and it is a pop confection in nearly every sense, but Dreamgirls carries a little extra heft. It actually appears to occupy the time and place of its setting. (Grease, by comparison, seems of the time it was made, rather than the time in which it was set.) And I liked Chicago, but it’s not like it made me think, afterwards, about the kinds of music I like, and how the people who make it might feel, and live, and work. And since the characters of Dreamgirls are African American, and they live in 1960s Detroit, well, it’s not like there’s a bunch of white teens singing Hand Jive at the prom.

Beyonce Knowles is Deena Jones. It can’t have been an easy decision to cast Knowles, since in recent memory she’s part of a famous singing trio, one that broke up just as her solo singing and movie career was getting huge. She’s good though, graceful and shy when the Dreams are starting out, more confident as the movie continues (Deena’s story actually reminded me as much of Tina Turner as Diana Ross). Knowles has a fine movie moment near the end of Dreamgirls, with a photo shoot set during Deena’s solo career. It’s mainly just posing, but as the scene progresses, we see something more behind Deena’s eyes. And damned if Beyonce Knowles isn’t one of the most photogenic actresses alive. Regardless of who becomes a star because of Dreamgirls, there was one in place already when the cameras rolled.

Mainly, however, Deena Jones (and Beyonce Knowles, and the unseen spirits of Diana Ross, Marvin Gaye, et al,) is overshadowed by two performances of such specific and uncommon energy you usually only see them on stages occupied by your grander rock stars. Jennifer Hudson, as Effie White, and Eddie Murphy, as James “Thunder” Early, bring an excitement to Dreamgirls. As Effie, Hudson is the loudest, biggest Dream, and also the most temperamental. She’s great to watch perform, but hell to work with. We all know she’s got the big number in Dreamgirls, but that’s not what’s so special. Other singers can do that song. Hudson is an actress, a good one, and shows us why Effie has to sing that song in the first place. Murphy is also in top form as Early, a sort of James Brown/Marvin Gaye hybrid. Early’s got genuine talent, and is a showman, but is also a womanizer and drug addict with a hot temper. Of course, Murphy’s not necessarily a revelation; he’s been this good for about three decades now. He’s never taken a role this tragic, however, and never shed as much ego to serve a character. I know it’ll take more than a Best Supporting Actor nomination to keep him out of fat suits, but maybe Dreamgirls will at least steer him away from the next two or three Daddy Day Care-type scripts floating his way.

Almost Famous is another movie I loved, another phony-baloney rock biography that claims to be fiction when we all know it’s about the Allman Brothers. Or Lynyrd Skynyrd. Or Led Zeppelin. Or the Eagles. Or Bad Company. Whatever. The point is that it’s about a rock band in the 1970s, and every aspect of Almost Famous—the clothes, the songs, the bus, the friendships—feels completely authentic.

Credit for this, of course, goes to Cameron Crowe, who, like the lead character William (Patrick Fugit), was a Rolling Stone reporter as a teenager, and went on tour with a rock band. Through his summer on the road, William gets a huge hand up careerwise, sees some great rock shows, almost dies in a plane crash, and falls in love with Penny Lane (Kate Hudson). The latter is the easiest, and is done by anyone who meets Penny, on screen or off. Hudson is a free and easy joy to watch in Almost Famous, and she’s in great company. Top to bottom, Almost Famous is one of those rare movies that is completely cast. William’s mother, probably a shrill cameo in lesser movies, is fully fleshed-out here by Crowe and Frances McDormand. Lester Bangs only has a couple scenes, but they’re played by Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Billy Crudup is the stand-in for Robert Plant (among others. Crudup is basically playing your favorite 1970s rock star, whoever that might be).

I think Almost Famous makes a fine companion to Dreamgirls. Two different ways of making music set in roughly the same time period. Two movies obviously inspired by real life, but with strong enough fictional boundaries to keep the lawsuits at bay. Most importantly, they’ve managed to capture the rush you feel when you hear a great song for the first time, and the absolute joy you feel when you hear it again for the hundredth time, and sing along.

Dreamgirls: B+

Almost Famous: A