The Color Purple

As a child, I would watch the faces of my mother, aunt, cousin and grandmother become wet with tears watching The Color Purple. Certain parts always guaranteed eye-welling.
When Celie and Nettie are forced apart by Mister. When Shug returns to church singing and finally finds love from her long-estranged father. When Celie and Nettie, after decades apart, are finally brought together and Celie is reunited with her children.
Watching the movie recently, I'll admit I had a couple of gulps. After 20 years, the film adaptation of Alice Walker's most famous work is still a classic.
You see Whoopi Goldberg in her best dramatic performance, her transformation from a shy and abused girl into a strong, determined woman as affecting as ever.
Back in the 1980s, some criticized the movie for its depiction of black men. As a black man, I can see the critics' point.
But I also see a film that shows the strength of black women, their spirit triumphing over seemingly insurmountable odds, their ability to lean upon one another in hard times. And it also exposes the ugliness of sexism, how men brutalized women without regard.
Danny Glover's performance is remarkable not only in how mean he is shown to be but also in how graceful and moving his redemption is at the end.
More important than anything is how black people are the center of this movie, an achievement even more meaningful being that white director Steven Spielberg helmed the film.
Too often movies about black people end up being more about white people. Check Cry Freedom or Mississippi Burning. The Color Purple took place in a black world full of joy and pain, laughter and tears.
I still marvel, 20 years later, how good of a movie it is.