This movie should not exist. I can’t watch a single frame of it without know Spielberg was unequivocally the wrong man for this material. I’ve never hated a score this much, and it fuses with the schmaltzy directing and framing to create something offensively palpable. Spielberg admitted as much; this is his version of the story he wanted to make to appeal to his tastes and reach that crowd pleasing PG-13 audience and so everything is sanded down to a nub. From the queerness to the realness this material should carry, they’ve been washed away in the name of- honestly thankfully not rewarded- Oscar glory.

I almost gave this two stars for the cast alone. They showed up, from Goldberg to Winfrey to Avery to Glover. They put their heart and soul in their performances and it is where the film finds most of its quality. And Spielberg obviously has talent. I’m not going to claim he’s a bad director and that there are not fleetingly brief moments that stir something. But it doesn’t stop the film from being painful to sit through from the childbirth scene on and that godawful score and sentimental fairy tale cinematography and wacky family fare gags and falls drowning out anything real. It takes a personal specific work seminal to black audiences- black lesbians in particular- and tells them this isn’t for them. It’s for everyone. Well, Spielberg can keep it.