The Color Purple

Saluting resilience and the power of sisterhood through a richly specific cultural lens, The Color Purple maintains a heartfelt reverence to Alice Walker’s seminal novel of faith and feminism.

This reinterpretation adapted from the acclaimed Broadway musical features a sterling ensemble cast that brings depth and complexity — not to mention vocal dexterity — helping an otherwise earnest and uneven film find its rhythm.

The story begins in the Deep South in the early 20th century, tracking the troubled life of Celie (Fantasia Barrino), a victim of incest as a teenager and later abuse from her older husband, nicknamed Mister (Colman Domingo).

After becoming separated from her childhood best friend and initially accepting her subordination, Celie is prompted to fight back after meeting strong-willed Sofia (Danielle Brooks), who happens to be married to Mister’s more open-minded son, juke-joint owner Harpo (Corey Hawkins).

Celie later flees her marriage at the urging of Sofia and Shug (Taraji P. Henson), a successful nightclub singer who becomes Celie’s confidant, in part because of her own history with Mister. Together they become determined to avenge the past in order to chart an unburdened future.

The supporting cast mixes musicians — including singer H.E.R., Ciara, and Jon Batiste — with established actors such as Deon Cole, David Alan Grier, and Louis Gossett Jr.

Before being punctuated with an obligatory empowerment anthem, the soundtrack is infused with gospel and blues, including a joyous opening spiritual number that belies the oppression faced by many Black women at the time, including Celie.

Meanwhile, Ghanaian director Blitz Bazawule (Black Is King) frees the material from its stagebound roots by vividly capturing its setting with sun-drenched bayous and magnolia groves. Dazzling choreography and visual flair highlight the lively production numbers.

The film lacks some of the dramatic heft and deeper resonance of its Oscar-nominated cinematic predecessor — directed by Steven Spielberg in 1985 — softening some of the nuanced edges. Rookie screenwriter Marcus Gardley doesn’t dwell on the broader systemic racism or socioeconomic inequalities that contribute to the characters’ hardscrabble circumstances.

The Color Purple is not as adept at juggling tones, injecting subtlety, or raising the emotional stakes as it tries to balance whimsy with melodrama. However, it refocuses in the final act, when its simmering battle of the sexes comes to a boil.

Rated PG-13, 141 minutes.