Skip to main content

Jennifer Holliday: "Dreamgirls"

 Many are writing about Jennifer Holliday (Tony Awards, 2021). 


"She sounds great."

"That was a Judy Garland-level transaction between singer and audience."

"That was an actual performance, not just two celebrities looking happy to reunite and sing an abridged ditty from 2002...."

But what happens in Holliday's big song? The speaker learns that her dude is leaving her. Though there is ample evidence to the contrary, the speaker says, "You're the best man I've ever known!" She won't go. She appeals to history: "We're part of the same place....We both have the same blood, same mind...." The speaker puts her own weakness on the table: "I don't wanna be free."

Everything builds to a simple, direct, explosive bridge: "Tear down the mountains. Yell, scream, and shout. You can say what you want. I'm not walking out...."

In the actual Broadway production, Effie falls to her knees, and as she sobs, the remaining Dreamgirls appear in the background; they have re-packaged Effie's rant as a top-ten breezy bop. "Love, love me BABY! Love, love me DARLING!" And Act One ends.

So many people claim to want to see depictions of "strength" on stage, or in front of the camera--but Effie is a portrait of weakness (among other things). That's what makes her so exciting and so difficult to turn away from. The main thrust of her song is wrong. She *doesn't* make this guy love her. (But she does rebound, and she invents a new career in Act Two.)

It's always a pleasure to see personal change in a story. "Something has changed within me....Something is not the same...." "I have been changed for good."

"Dreamgirls" gives us one ugly, spellbinding, uncomfortable moment of change.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

Raymond Carver: "What's in Alaska?"

Outside, Mary held Jack's arm and walked with her head down. They moved slowly on the sidewalk. He listened to the scuffing sounds her shoes made. He heard the sharp and separate sound of a dog barking and above that a murmuring of very distant traffic.  She raised her head. "When we get home, Jack, I want to be fucked, talked to, diverted. Divert me, Jack. I need to be diverted tonight." She tightened her hold on his arm. He could feel the dampness in that shoe. He unlocked the door and flipped the light. "Come to bed," she said. "I'm coming," he said. He went to the kitchen and drank two glasses of water. He turned off the living-room light and felt his way along the wall into the bedroom. "Jack!" she yelled. "Jack!" "Jesus Christ, it's me!" he said. "I'm trying to get the light on." He found the lamp, and she sat up in bed. Her eyes were bright. He pulled the stem on the alarm and b...

My Favorite Pop Song

  One thing I admire about Prince is his weirdly pretentious verses: Dream, if you can, a courtyard-- An ocean of violets in bloom. Also: Touch, if you will, my stomach. Feel how it trembles inside. No one else writes like this. Did people try to shoot down these choices? Did a producer say, "We'd like to rethink this one... Touch, if you will, my stomach...."  I can't help but wonder. But it's the chorus that makes this a classic. It's direct and universal--and it ends with that bizarre flourish, the allusion to "the crying doves." (Prince's song was number one in America for quite a while; it defeated Bruce Springsteen's "Dancing in the Dark.") How can you just leave me standing-- Alone in a world that's so cold? Maybe I'm just too demanding. Maybe I'm just like my father--too bold. Maybe you're just like my mother; She's never satisfied. Why do we scream at each other? This is what it sounds like when doves cr...