INNER CITY BLUES: a review of "Precious"

"PRECIOUS" Directed by Lee Daniel
**** (4 stars)

She sits silently in the back of the classroom. She possesses strong knowledge of the Mathematics presented on the chalkboard, yet a word never seeps from her lips. She is fixated upon her Caucasian teacher, either through a crush or admiration or unrealistic wish that he will be the one to whisk her away from this dreadful place. Leaning in her seat almost sideways, her head rests upon her hand, in an apathetic fashion, belying her desire to one-day sit in the front of the classroom and show what she knows. Her skin is as dark as coal, with all facial features and expressions hidden from view, as if she is willing her face to fold inwards upon itself to as not reveal the human being that sits there. Despite this withdrawal, her mind races; from her aforementioned classroom desires to therapeutic fantasias of being famous, adored by an endless stream of fans (as well as a young light-skinned Black man) and finally, being anywhere except where she is. Some may feel these visions to be unhealthy but when faced with the alternative, which is her gruesome reality, could anyone truly blame her? Her name is Claireece Jones, known to all as “Precious,” and the subject of Director Lee Daniels’ harsh and painfully empathetic film “Precious.” Much has already been written about the film’s ultimately inspirational tonality but I found the film to be considerably less inspirational yet more informational via its rawness. The film's non-judgemental, brutal honestly makes for ferociously compelling, compassionate and humane viewing of the highest necessity.

Set in Harlem circa 1987, we meet Precious deep the vortex of a family situation where the word “abusive” is too faint a description. Precious is 16 years old, illiterate, and pregnant with her second child, the product of being repeatedly raped by her now absent Father. Her current home life is a graphic and endless cycle of violence. Daily and nightly, she faces the relentless rage of her Mother, the nicotine and television addicted Mary (in a jaw dropping performance by the comedienne Mo’Nique). Mary has duly ignored the years of Precious’ abuse and forces her to obey her every whim, which include (and not limited to) cooking her meals of grossly over sized proportions and nutritional content (and if Mary is not pleased, Precious is forced to eat it all herself).

After being suspended from school once her pregnancy has been revealed, Precious’ principal strongly advises her to attend an alternative school named, “Each One Teach One,” in order to potentially rise above her situation—much to Mary’s vehement dismay, whose degradations of Precious’ beauty, mind, self-worth and spirit are relentless. Since Mary feels that education is futile and her own life is designated to remain upon welfare, Precious' audacity to think that her life deserves better is only rewarded through extreme punishment. The only solace Precious is able to unearth are contained inside of her lofty fantasies of wealth and fame; salvations she retreats to once the demons in front of her and the demons lodged in her memories due to years of rape and incest threaten to smother her.

Somehow obtaining the courage, Precious arrives at Each One Teach One and experiences a newfound education with other troubled female youths under the tutelage of the young, no-nonsense and improbably named Ms. Blue Rain (Paula Patton in one of the film’s several strong performances). While in school, Precious slowly begins to sit in front of the class, learn to read, to make friends, to write and eventually discover her inner strength through the words she had never been allowed to utter, let alone think without remorseless retribution and humiliation. She gradually finds support and love not only through Ms. Rain but also through kindly Nurse John (nicely played by Lenny Kravitz in a small role), present for the delivery of her second child and Ms. Weiss (a strikingly unglamorous Mariah Carey in another small but effective performance). Given these life-saving tools, Precious is confronted with taking those baby steps to meet the challenges of raising her children, completing her education and mostly, rising above the violence that has plagued her family for generations.

This film is a steamroller and the wisest decision Director Lee Daniels has made in interpreting the source material (the novel, Push written by the poet Sapphire), was to keep the audience firmly in the mind of Precious, forcing us to view and feel her experiences from the inside out rather than from some omniscient viewpoint. This decision also allows the film to never fall into hyperbolic melodrama or even worse, “Lifetime movie” territory where the cycle of abuse ends with a firmly declared line of newly attained self –worth, set to a rush of strings and tearful piano chords. Nor is this a film where Precious is simply rescued by some benevolent figure. Although her support system builds, Precious realizes that, in the end, all she has is herself to depend on and the lives of her children desperately hang under the consequences of her actions.

Daniels shows complete faith with the inherent drama of the material and never succumbs to the manipulative trickery of a film like 2009’s “My Sister’s Keeper,” which seemed to exist solely to make audiences cry. Precious’ story is allowed to simply unfold naturally and any theatrical “bells and whistles” are all thematically driven and reflect Precious’ inner state. One transformative fight sequence between Precious and Mary is intercut between tender Mother/child imagery that has never existed within their relationship. Those depictions always float through Precious’ mind as a life-raft and you can feel the desperation.

Concepts of Precious’ self-image are brilliantly and subtly presented as well, especially with a striking short sequence where she looks into a mirror and sees not herself but the vision of a thin, blond woman. The motif of the mirror extends throughout the film in continued graceful notes and the final image is stunning in its simplicity.

The greatest gifts of “Precious” lie in the performances and Daniels could not have found better conduits for his interpretation than Gabourney Sidibe and Mo’Nique. Sidibe gives a heartbreaking performance in the title role without ever being cloying or even sentimental, which would have clashed with the film’s overall severe tone. Her entire performance is disarmingly and endearingly matter-of-fact. You are easily able to see how she tries to simultaneously appear invisible while knowing how visible she is in her surroundings as she is constantly taunted. Her outer walls are strongly in place while her mind is flying, as she devastatingly attempts to find her place in the world. Sidibe, in her quiet dignity, creates a character that evolves far beyond being someone to simply root for. She gives a face and soul to society’s forgotten children and it is an remarkable debut performance.

The improbable casting of Mo’Nique, as Precious’ volcanic, depressing, and monstrous Mother, adds layers of tremendous depth and quality. Most importantly, the film never allows Mary to serve solely as the film’s beast. Daniels and Mo’Nique have given this character a definitive humanity that is, at times, frightening to empathize with—and you do empathize and even understand her, especially when she behaves at her most loathsome. Through the relationship she has with Precious, we see Mary’s own history and the irreparable damage a life of abuse has caused her. It is all she knows and the blind’s eye she turns in regards to the incest inflicted upon Precious is steeped in misguided jealousy and a soul crushing lack of self-worth. Mo’Nique has not one, but perhaps three scenes of awesome power, that again are all striking due to being matter-of-fact and not a campaign for an Oscar nomination. However, if Oscar does not reward these two women with at least nominations, it would be an enormous cinematic crime.

The film ends with the dedication “For Precious Girls Everywhere” and that is this film’s greatest achievement. There are those who have begun to decry the film for its imagery as well as its exposure of painful societal truths. But, sometimes, it is precisely those stories that need to be told the most. In current American cinema, a story like Precious’ is entirely disregarded and this film forces us to take the time to ponder all of those girls and women out there in the inner cities and beyond, whose lives are hanging in a cauldron of unbearable private pain.

“Precious” gives a pure and empathetic voice to our country's lost children and I would guess, to anyone afflicted with an abusive existence. By doing so, the film transcends its own inner city surroundings to make a statement about the history of violence itself. Daniels and his cast seem to be saying that regardless of the nightmare of one's past, the future is boldly unwritten and the cycle of abuse and violence can be broken in equally bold steps and perseverance.

“Precious” is one of 2009’s very best films.