Good cast, good-heartedness do not make good movie

Date: December 13, 1996
By Arthur Salm, Arts Writer

From The San Diego Union-Tribune
Submitted by: Larry A.


Two hours may sound like a long movie, but so many things need to be done: The church must be saved, the Christmas pageant staged, the little boy taken away to a foster home reunited with his friend, the young man wrongly accused of robbery exonerated, the greedy developer shown the error of his ways, the mother-in-law tamed and the preacher and his wife reconciled.

The church could use a new boiler, too. Actually, two hours approaches eternity when it means being shepherded through good-hearted, well-intentioned treacle such as "The Preacher's Wife."

Although punctuated energetically by rave-up gospel from Whitney Houston (in the title role; thumping backup from the Georgia Mass Choir), the movie remains relentlessly flat and formulaic. Denzel Washington plays Dudley, a novice angel sent to Earth to help out the struggling Rev. Henry Biggs (Courtney B. Vance) and his failing church. Not the least of Henry's problems is his disintegrating relationship with Julia (Houston), his choir-director wife: As he races about town on missions of mercy, he is forced time after time to stand her up. Enter Dudley ... to do not much of anything.

He squires Julia around, igniting jealousy in the good reverend, and supplies an occasional parlor trick or well-timed gust of wind, but mostly he just walks around and looks at people.

It's a low-key, self-effacing performance for Washington, and, intermittently, the movie glides along with him.

He seems ethereal here -- he doesn't so much walk as waft. (When a spark arcs between Julia and Dudley, "The Preacher's Wife" senses the audience's discomfort, and backpedals fast: Umm, no, this is not where we wanted to go.) There's unintentional, campy fun in witnessing the set-ups arranged to give Houston a chance to sing.

Most are telegraphed far in advance -- when Julia and Dudley go to Bristloe's (Lionel Richie) jazz joint, what are the chances she won't sing a torch song? -- but who among us could have predicted that using a doll that wets as a prop for the baby Jesus would be employed as yet another excuse to have her fling that voice around the church? Director Penny Marshall never establishes a consistent tone.

Washington and Houston have their dials set on about 2; dithering, worry-wort Vance has turned to about 5, while Jenifer Lewis (as mom-in-law) and Loretta Devine (a frantic secretary) have theirs cranked up almost to a Spinal-Tap-esque 11. And little Justin Pierre Edmund was an unwise choice as occasional narrator, in that his burbly cuteness carries with it a speech pattern that verges upon unintelligibility.

"The Preacher's Wife" is a remake of "The Bishop's Wife" (1947), and it inspires a certain amount of guilt: It's not very good, yet you can't help but feel a little Grinchy, putting down a movie with lines such as "They're going to close the youth center today!" and (from young Edmund, when his friend is taken away to a foster home) "Who'll I tell my secrets to?" Still, something this upbeat, with these stars, and at this time of year, seems unlikely to fizzle at the box office -- and the CD is bound for platinum glory.

Thus, another studio angel earns his wings.