So I went to Kimball's with a few friends last night to see Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire. This is a film about a black, overweight teenager, pregnant with her second child — both from her father who raped her — making her way through Harlem in the 80's. The girl, Precious, is nearly illiterate and dodges her mother's blows at home, but she knows deep down she deserves better. The movie follows her journey through an alternative school where she begins to progress out of her shockingly miserable life. I expected to cry, feel depressed, or maybe empowered. But all I feel is guilt.
I feel guilty because Precious left me drawn; I'm not sure what to think about all the horror I watched. Critics are pretty polarized about the film (see our dual Indy reviews here), but my opinion, and it's a feeble one, doesn't fit in anywhere. It wasn't bad, or great, it just, well, was.
Make no mistake, the acting is incredible. Mo'Nique is a believable monster as Precious' mother and Gabourey Sidibe, playing the protagonist, lends heartbreaking relatability in her role. But, for lack of a better explanation, Precious is just missing something more.