RaShaune Echols
Dr. Franks
English 360H
March 4, 2010
Trying to Tell You Something
One of the most consistent complaints from film critics and moviegoers about major
studios adapting a novel into film is not including enough of the original text. Some film
adaptations have a surplus of detailed visual depictions that take away from the integrity of the
story as written in the novel. Other big-screen versions add elements that do not show up at all
in the original storyline. The worst edition is the movie does not provide a terrible adaptation,
but also does not include a large amount of memorable characters, chapters, and seemingly
important details that allow the plot to develop. However in Steven Spielberg’s major studio
version of The Color Purple, he does not completely fall victim to any of these symptoms. Of
course it is impossible to include every single detail from a novel; even the briefest book would
be hours onscreen if the producers stay completely authentic to the author’s details. Although
Spielberg does omit many elements from Alice Walker’s acclaimed work, he allows his previous
movie making experience to guide him to create a nearly flawless movie. His collaboration with
renowned music producer Quincy Jones may be the most pivotal move, introducing impeccable
music as the most important component in the film’s success.
In contrast to most movies, the producers purposely omit any soundtrack in the opening
credits. After watching the film numerous times, I only recently realized the reason Mr. Jones
and the other producers do not play the typical opening scene credit music. Behind the sounds of
bugs buzzing and birds singing in nature is faint singing: “Me and you, us never part, Makidada.
Me and you, is have one heart, Makidada. Ain’t no ocean, ain’t no sea, Makidada. Keep my
sister away from me, Makidada.” Immediately afterwards, the only sound is brief playful female
grunts that fill the air, and then giggles from Celie and Nettie. This all takes up only about one
full minute, and then the orchestral soundtrack finally begins. This scene sets up the ongoing
bond that the two sisters maintain throughout the course of the story. The novel cannot initially
convey this same understanding because it opens in the first page with a harsh quote from Pa:
“You better not never tell nobody but God. It’d kill your mammy.” In the film, Pa comes into
the field where Nettie and Celie are playing, and after a few moments the next sound is Celie
grunting giving birth during a stormy night as Pa hovers outside in the middle of the winter. He
is cold in the literal sense when he stands in the snow unshaken and metaphorical sense because
he is standing away unemotional while Celie gives birth to his son. The music is of course in a
minor key and the heavy blowing winds and screaming allow the moment to be the movie’s first
heart-wrenching scene. After only three minutes of film, the music steers Celie from her
happiest moments with Nettie to one of her saddest when her father takes away their baby. This
latter part of the scene is in the onscreen equivalent of “You better not never tell nobody but
God. It’d kill your mammy.”
Music dominates throughout the film. Rim shots and tubas emphasize Harpo's
incompetence, reminiscent of the black and white comedy short movies. This creates an element
of goofiness for Harpo that is not blatant in the novel. He falls through the tops of buildings,
drops things, and acts dimwitted in nearly every scene. However, the novel does not mention as
many comedic outcomes for Harpo as the movie. Spielberg and Jones make this funny and
many other fantastic contributions to the film adaptation.
However, in a world of numerous musical additions, the omission of any music from the
novel is surprising. During the climax of the film, Celie finds her “voice,” as does another
character. Squeak decides to move to Memphis with Shug and Celie. This association seems to
come unexpectedly, but in the novel the relationship is apparent. Squeak displays her high-pitch
musical talent. In so many vulgar words, Shug insists Squeak has a voice that puts people in the
mood for love. Celie recalls the lyrics to Squeak's song, “They call me yellow/ like yellow be
my name. They call me yellow/ like yellow be my name. Well if I say Hey black girl/ Lord, she
try to ruin my game” (page 99). Shug later tells Squeak, now known as Mary Agnes, she “ought
to sing in public” (page 115). Maybe Squeak's musical aspirations are not relevant to the overall
development of her character; her declaring she is no longer Squeak, but Mary Agnes achieves
the independence effect as singing.
For the most part, the film stays true to the novel. Harpo builds a “juke joint” with his
friend Swain; once the place is open for business, the ultimate attraction performs: Shug Avery.
She causes a negative commotion for the church and a spectacular boost in Harpo's club
popularity. She wears low cut dresses, shakes to the music, and keeps all club-goers staring at
her, including Celie. In the pages from Alice Walker, Shug sings a jazz tune from the 1930's by
Bessie Smith entitled “A Good Man is Hard to Find.” The song begins with the melancholy “My
heart is sad and I'm all alone/ my man’s treating me mean/ I regret the day that I was born/ and
the man that I ever seen.” Jones feels the need to spice up this song for the big screen. He does
not change the song because of its age; he helps create a song that matches the sexual,
domineering personality Shug exudes in every scene.
The hard to find good man is the topic of discussion in the new tune, “The Dirty
Dozens.” The “sad hearts” and “regrets” Bessie Smith sings about turn into “a rotten mistreater”
and” robber” in the new song. Shug begins her song in the movie with the aggressive “I want all
you men folk to fall in line/and shake yo' shimmy like I'm shakin' mine/ Shake yo' shimmy and
you shake it fast/ If you can't shake yo' shimmy, shake it yes, yes, yes!” Quincy Jones may have
believed that this song better suits Shug; I would agree completely, but if Bessie Smith really
wrote the song she originally planned, her song would have been immaculately crafted for Shug.
I once read a quote from Bessie Smith who jokes that she always thought of switching the words
"good" and "hard" in this song's title. But she digresses and admits there “were too many
righteous folk around in [her] day. It would've given them a heart attack.”
In both the film and the novel, Celie enjoys the songs but is jealous of the attraction
between Albert and Shug. Immediately after Celie silently gripes, Shug changes the entire mood
from male focused ballads to Celie. In the novel, Shug introduces her next selection, “Miss
Celie's Song” written when “Celie scratches it out of her head” when Shug first arrives to the
house (page 73). This movie scene picks up exactly as the novel, except the title changes
slightly to “Miss Celie's Blues.” The name change actually contrasts the subject of the song. The
connotation for “blues” is typically angry and depressing. However, in “Miss Celie's Blues,”
Shug sings a sweet and positive message that provides optimism for Celie. Even Albert realizes
the power of the lyrics and changes his face to a surprised expression. Shug sings her ode to
Celie: “Sister, you’ve been on my mind/ Sister, we’re two of a kind.” Celie admits that no one
has ever made anything for her; so in actuality, her “Blues” are the most optimistic revelation at
this point in her life and it all begins at Harpo’s.
Arguably, the most emotional scene in the film begins in Harpo’s as well, although it
ends in a completely different setting. When Shug returns after marrying Grady, she entertains
the patrons of the club once again. She begins singing just as always and the camera cuts to a
scene at the church where Shug’s father preaches his sermon. He stumbles slightly in his sermon
because he and everyone in the church can hear the music from the club. This clash of sounds is
more divine intervention than coincidental. He gets louder and the club music gets louder.
When a mother sitting in a pew leans over to someone talking in the row in front of her, she
gives one of the loudest whispers ever: “Shh. Listen. God is trying to tell you something.” This
prompts the pastor to request the gospel choir to sing the song of the same name, “God is Trying
to Tell You Something,” written by gospel great Andre Crouche and Quincy Jones.
Steven Spielberg uses this moment to allow Shug Avery back into the good grace of
God, and more emotionally her pastor father. The choir begins singing and just as the club
music interrupts church service, the band at the club wind down their music when the gospel
choir singing yards away drowns out the secular tunes. At this instant, the look on Shug’s face is
similar to the look Albert has when Shug dedicates the song to Celie. The title of the song is
perfect for Shug because she realizes that it is talking directly to her. At this point, she is the
“you” in the title. When Shug begins singing “God is Trying to Tell You Something,” the spirit
of God genuinely fills her. When the band follows her on the path until they all reach the church,
this represents a change from sin to righteousness for them all. Even her singing voice
immediately morphs from sultry to a sanctified tone in a matter of moments. Shug confesses
something to her father that a preacher should already know of all people. “See daddy. Sinners
have souls, too.”
Music is the intangible element that drives Alice Walker’s fictional vision from a sad
world created in the minds of the reader into a vivid promising masterpiece onscreen. The use of
detailed sounds, strong voices, and therapeutic instruments round out even the most gruesome
tale because life is the same way. A friendly voice, a canny rhyme scheme, and a perfectly
played instrument may stir up a positive feeling inside a person experiencing the most dismal
situation. So the sounds in the air may be more than simply noise; they may be the directions
that will help change someone’s life. The sounds are saying something. Who will take the time
out to figure what is said?
Rashaune: Your paper ends on an inspired note. Besides inspiration, you demonstrate
the logical skills of argumentation in proving that the music is very moving, and moves the tale
from book to screen nicely. You don’t harp on the differences from the book and on lack of
fidelity, which is key. You write very well.
Grade: 95