Movie Maven

Diary of a Mad Black Woman
Starring: Tyler Perry, Kimberly Elise, Shemar Moore
Written by: Tyler Perry
Directed by: Darren Grant
Official Website

(Photo: Tyler Perry and Kimberly Elise, courtesy of cinemaeye.com)

On this Valentine's Day, the day of lovers, chocolate manufacturers and weepy single girls gorging themselves on Haagen-Dazs, I would like to post on the subject of commitment. Commitment, that is, to a movie. Whenever I go to see a movie I form a bond with that movie for the next two to three hours. I have paid exorbitant amounts for my ticket, snuck in my Big Box of Raisinettes and Diet Pepsi, and perused the coming attractions posters in the lobby. I have settled myself in the perfect seat in the back of the theater, so I'm not that tall girl with the big head that the person behind me can't see around. Plus, if someone answers their cell phone during the movie I'm in prime position to pelt them mercilessly with Raisinettes.

In short I have formed a monogamous, committed relationship for however long the movie lasts.

Now I've had wonderful, engaged relationships with many movies based on this perseverance, which have enriched my life and eventually enlarged my DVD collection. Unfortunately this commitment also attracts the losers, the betrayers, the liars- the "scrubs," if you will- in cinema. I have been taken advantage of by bad editing and crappy dialogue- I have been cheated on and stolen from by lousy mise-en-scene. These movies are the bad boyfriends of the film world.

And yet, I have sat through them. The train wreck that was The Ring 2, the deadbeat, no-good trash of A Guy Thing. The cheesy, overwrought Harry Potter adaptations (only the ones Chris Columbus laid his filthy hack paws on), and the depressing and neurotic Jack and What Dreams May Come. The list goes on and on. I have sat through them all, whether it was because my friends dragged me to it, or a date paid for me, or I honest-to-God had thought it would be good. Because I believe in monogamy. I believe in commitment to one's movie-going experiences.

Save for one.

The only movie I ever walked out on is Diary of a Mad Black Woman, the comedy by Tyler Perry. It was one I thought would be good. A friend and I were bored, and it looked funny. And the first twenty minutes weren't so bad. I eased myself into cheesy movie mode. Helen (Kimberly Elise) is kicked out by her evil rich husband (Steve Harris) who's having an affair, and is forced to move in with her kooky grandmother Medea (Tyler Perry), and meets the poor but ruggedly handsome moving man Orlando (Shemar Moore). Romance! Laughs! Men dressing up as crazy fat old women! Fun for the whole family, etc. etc.

I don't remember the exact moment when it hit me. Maybe it was during one of the many scenes where Helen's pothead grandfather (also Perry) makes a fool of himself. Or during the bizarre, gag-inducing session Helen has with her mother about the awesome power of God's love and how it will heal her pain. Or maybe during the extensive bouts of voice-over, meant, I guess, as diary entries, but really more like the ignorant jaw-flapping testimonials on the Real World. I'm not sure when, but at some moment it dawned on me that this was the worst movie I had ever seen. It was intolerable- I was so disgusted that people actually spent money to make this movie I knew I had to leave. My relationship was tainted. Commitment just wasn't enough.

I glanced at my friend, who looked about as happy as I was with the proceedings and asked if she'd like to go. She looked like I had just offered her water in the middle of the Sahara and nodded enthusiastically. We left during the "pivotal" love scene between Helen and Orlando (Will they kiss or won't they- Oh, I'm on the edge of my seat!!). I have never seen the end of that movie- apparently Charles almost gets killed or something, and Helen must choose between crappy, but rich and repentant ex-husband and hot, romantic but poor Orlando. I think her grandfather might also get high and stumble around a lot, but don't quote me on that.

Commitment to one's movie is a beautiful thing. It keeps us watching even after we've figured out how it's going to end, and keeps us in tune with the good bits even a bad movie can include. But like all relationships, we shouldn't ever fear walking away if that's what's required for our mental health. Because someday you might find the hot, romantic Orlandos of the film world. And you don't want to have wasted your ten dollars on a scrub.