Ray

directed by Taylor Hackford
story by Taylor Hackford and James L. White
screenplay by James L. White
 
starring  Jamie Foxx, Kerry Washington, Regina King, Clifton Powell, Harry J. Lennix, Bokeem Woodbine, Aunjanue Ellis, Curtis Armstrong, Larenz Tate, Richard Schiff, C.J. Sanders

            It may take biographic cinema to acquaint younger generations with artists best known in their later years as commercial spokespersons but Ray isn’t just your typical life story as episodic timeline. That it only dips into re-creations and dabbles more into recreations provides the movie with a sympathetic yet not apologetic acknowledgement of the moral failings that come with genius.
         The script encloses the 15 years that Ray Charles was most creative - and simultaneously hooked on drugs - as the recording legend defied those who would take advantage of a poor, blind boy to become an inspiration through inventive arrangements and impressive business dealings. As a short span of a lengthy career, Ray covers a lot of ground and with as much convention as can be expected, but the progression of events has more fluid passage than most profiles that pander to the viewer’s demand for familiarity. There is no tacky behind-the-scenes look at movie and television cameos, USA For Africa or ads for Diet Pepsi, to which younger moviegoers might associate him. Each stage performance and studio session fulfills soundtrack quotas and generalized treatment of reactions and responses to Charles’ groundbreakings and yet they serve the story as entertaining inserts and setups more than existing solely for requisite filler.
        Ray Charles’ less admirable qualities are no secret. He fathered 12 children with a number of women, only two of whom he was married to, and once admitted to sleeping with background singers as part of his audition process. The movie concerns the period in which he was married to his second wife, Della Bea (their son Ray Jr. is credited as a co-producer) and had prominent affairs with vocalists Margie Hendrix (misspelled Hendricks in the credits) and Mary Ann Fisher. A few arrests during this time exposed his 20-year addiction to heroin, a vice shown on screen as the suppressor of childhood demons and never, except legally, a weight on his career. To say these aspects of Charles’ life aren’t celebrated would be a lie but that isn’t to say they’re glorified, only elaborately attended.
      Flashbacks to younger depression-era days expose the demons at appropriate moments, paced throughout the bigger picture, his eventual closure dealt with in an almost awkward similarity to the end of Return of the Jedi. Because of the gentle handling and sentimental investment given toward the roles in the course of 150 minutes, though, the moment is not without grace. The only kink, and it isn’t bad just risky, is the allowance for a separation between Ray Charles and actor Jamie Foxx that reminds and emphasizes the performance with self-congratulation.     
       The film and Foxx, though, are worthy of some boasting. The actor exhibits a near seamless resemblance to his subject, more than fitting for his former sketch show “In Living Color” had there been any sense of mockery. He avoids limiting himself to impersonation or imitation, though. Going further, Foxx doesn’t play Ray but is Ray, if ever faulting in replicating the man exact at least succeeding in a consistent embodiment of the character as written. Foxx is not alone either. Most of his support is excellent, with specific praise deserving of Kerry Washington as Della Bea. While she and others serve dramatic and narrative function, they are respectfully developed and trusted for their own presence instead of purpose. Sure not every person in a biopic can get such treatment and some roles like Kurt Fuller’s ABC-Paramount president Sam Clark become lost in inevitable cliché.
      Ray might be largely profitable through its enjoyable achievements on the screen but the entire production is not to be ignored. Making up for their work on garbage, to put it bluntly, director Taylor Hackford and editor Paul Hirsch make bold decisions considering the film’s overall length, to remain faithfully on moments that extend otherwise expository sequences to give them the vitality and honesty they demand.  Even with such cutting, or more appropriately such connecting, of scenes the movie never feels overlong. Changes in style and technique by Hirsch, alongside those of cinematographer Pawel Edelman, keep things fresh and interesting throughout.
      Ray is no innovation or improvement of its genre. It just works better than most and says more than most personal histories reliant on familiarly strung together happenings. It is a proper tribute, entertainment and talent show.

Expectation Key


there's no possible way we will even see this

we'll eventually see this but we aren't really expecting much

anticipating the release of this one but we're sure to be left unsatisfied

such high expectation of this film only leaves room for disappointment