Singer/actress Jennifer Hudson shoulders the weight of audience expectations as Aretha Franklin, the iconic subject of Respect. Hudson (who won an Oscar for Dreamgirls) acquits herself through force of will and vocal performances that are so much better than the film's narrative, which feels like a pastiche of religious and secular tropes.
This feeling is present from the start, in the film's first scene, when 10-year-old Aretha (Skye Dakota Turner) is roused out of her bed by her father, Rev. C. L. Franklin (Forest Whitaker), to sing for the crowd of luminaries assembled downstairs, whom she greets as Aunt and Uncle. She performs a sassy blues for the likes of Dinah, Ella and Duke, and is accompanied on piano by Art Tatum. This fantastic scene capsulizes not only the child Aretha's verve but her father's vise grip on her body and spirit.
The theme of domination and control is carried through the picture, and epitomized later by her abusive husband Ted (a terrifically menacing Marlon Wayans) and alcohol and ultimately became the clarion call for her own liberation. They're infused in the lyrics of her biggest hits.
With Franklin as the subject, music must be a central element of the story. Director Liesl Tommy -- in her first feature -- stages wonderful showcases for Hudson's pipes and fans of Franklin will not be disappointed. And yet tissue connecting these stellar moments often feels incomplete, scattered, wispy. For example, aside from the young Aretha, the half-dozen or so other children in the film are never fully placed within the story world, the ages of principal characters are poorly defined, locations are suggested and not firmly planted, except for Aretha and Ted's trip to Muscle Shoals, Alabama, for an early recording session. That segment of the film has substantially more color and flavor than the rest of the film. So much important stuff seems to be going on beyond the frames, in different spaces. And that's frustrating.
The film weaves together love and sexual frankness, domestic violence and tenderness, vulgarity and Jesus in ways that will likely be familiar to many moviegoers, who will compartmentalize the disparate elements of the picture. They will heed the wisdom of Rev. James L. Cleveland (Titus Burgess) who counsels a dejected Aretha to set aside her demons (they never existed anyway) and just be in church.
That might be the best way to fully enjoy a movie that shines but not nearly as brightly as it could.
