If there's anyone whose talent shone through immediately and deserved the accolades, it was Richard Pryor who rose up slowly, moved into critically acclaimed supporting parts, as well as script writing and eventually leading roles and becoming one of the top box office comics of the late 70's and early 80's. This semi-autobiographical film may change his name, but even viewers who know little about his life will see that he's playing himself. This starts with the freebasing episode that nearly took his life and becomes quite therapeutic both for the actor and the audience who stood by praying for his recovery during that difficult time. If there's any actor, writer or director who could tell that story, it's Pryor, doing all three (plus producing), because Pryor was one of the great story tellers of all time.
As Jo Jo Dancer, Pryor witnesses episodes of his life as he strives to recover, remembering his childhood with a mother and grandmother who ran a brothel, a very strict father embittered by his wife walking out, a supportive stepmother and those he encounters on his ride up (which includes the wonderful Paula Kelly who aides him in his first break) and those who are there during the height of his fame. Barbara Williams as his (white) wife stands by him through disruptive audiences, skyrocketing fame and the bad times, and that includes a dalliance with the striking Debbie Allen. Of course she gets to show off her dancing skills, fresh from hit shows on Broadway and of course TV's "Fame". Appearances by jazz greats Carmen McRae (fabulous as Grandma) and Billy Eckstine is another plus.
As humor ruled Pryor's career, there was always a sense of sad truths included in his stories, and even in playing a version of himself shares that sadness without lecturing or trying to make the audience feel sorry for him. It's all about, "This is what happened, it was my mistake, and I have to try to move on". As Pryor in spirit form looks at Pryor on the hospital gurney, you can see his eyes expressing his own memories including Jo Jo's, and it's a mixture of poignant regret and the necessity of humor as a cure better than medication. This is one time where I watched someone's tragic story unfolding and didn't feel like an unwelcome outsider sticking my nose in where it shouldn't be.
As Jo Jo Dancer, Pryor witnesses episodes of his life as he strives to recover, remembering his childhood with a mother and grandmother who ran a brothel, a very strict father embittered by his wife walking out, a supportive stepmother and those he encounters on his ride up (which includes the wonderful Paula Kelly who aides him in his first break) and those who are there during the height of his fame. Barbara Williams as his (white) wife stands by him through disruptive audiences, skyrocketing fame and the bad times, and that includes a dalliance with the striking Debbie Allen. Of course she gets to show off her dancing skills, fresh from hit shows on Broadway and of course TV's "Fame". Appearances by jazz greats Carmen McRae (fabulous as Grandma) and Billy Eckstine is another plus.
As humor ruled Pryor's career, there was always a sense of sad truths included in his stories, and even in playing a version of himself shares that sadness without lecturing or trying to make the audience feel sorry for him. It's all about, "This is what happened, it was my mistake, and I have to try to move on". As Pryor in spirit form looks at Pryor on the hospital gurney, you can see his eyes expressing his own memories including Jo Jo's, and it's a mixture of poignant regret and the necessity of humor as a cure better than medication. This is one time where I watched someone's tragic story unfolding and didn't feel like an unwelcome outsider sticking my nose in where it shouldn't be.