Forget Weak Plot

Date: December 13, 1996
By Gary Thompson, Movie Critic

From Philadelphia Daily News
Submitted by: Larry A.


Hollywood has always understood glamour much better than sociology.

For movies about African-American life, this has been something of a curse - they have taken a permanent foothold, finally, at the multiplex, but they are mostly of the urban hell variety, about some guy named O-Dog who has just shot a Korean merchant, or four women who rob banks, or men on their way to the Million Man March, etc.

These movies are valid and important in their own way, but they draw upon only a small portion of Hollywood's potential power, and certainly not the most profitable part.

Which is why the seemingly innocuous "The Preacher's Wife" looms as a watershed for the new wave of African-American movies.

Directed with maximum shmaltz - and unfortunate carelessness - by Penny Marshall, "The Preacher's Wife" brings high-wattage glamour to the African-American movie, in the form of Denzel Washington and Whitney Houston, placing them in exactly the kind of archetypal Hollywood romance that might have starred Cary Grant and Loretta Young. In fact, that did star Grant and Young, in 1947, when the film was known as "The Bishop's Wife."

Now, no one will mistake pop diva Houston for a technically accomplished actress, but she is inarguably a star, the only black movie star who has captivated a mass moviegoing audience - her "Bodyguard" and "Waiting to Exhale" have been box-office gold.

Houston is a star, and so, of course, is Washington, and people will line up around the block to see them fall in love and kiss, no matter how manipulative or poorly conceived the story.

Which is good news for "The Preacher's Wife," a manipulative and poorly conceived remake of "The Bishop's Wife," starring Washington as an angel sent earthward to save a faltering church operated by a self-doubting preacher (Courtney Vance) and his gospel-singing wife (Whitney Houston).

As the movie opens, we see there are problems between the couple, though the nature of this conflict is left maddeningly unclear by Marshall and by the underwritten screenplay.

Washington's angel arrives to set things right - assisting the preacher in his impossibly demanding job as the spiritual Mr. Fix-It of his impoverished community, trying to make his neglected wife feel wanted.

The angel succeeds at this second mission only too well. The preacher's wife is soon so wanted she becomes infatuated, much to the comic horror of her vigilant, wisecracking mother (a scene-stealing Jenifer Lewis).

Because the characters and plot lines are so vague, the movie doesn't have much of a payoff. Its better moments - and there are quite a few sprinkled over the two-hour running time - are contributed by the first-rate cast.

Lewis and Loretta Devine are memorably funny, and child actor Justin Pierre Edmund can be officially designated as this season's adorable child.

Then there's the music. Like the old Sinatra, Dean Martin or Bing Crosby vehicles, "The Preacher's Wife" is an excuse for Houston to sing, and sing she does. There are a half-dozen gospel numbers, and one love song in a jazz club. Houston delivers them in her signature style - trying out 14 or 15 notes before she settles on one she likes.

With Houston in charge, the gospel choir makes some joyful noise indeed. The movie may be only average, but the soundtrack should be heavenly.

THE PREACHER'S WIFE * * 1/2