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Simply Ray
Biographical film proves painfully human
by Molly Kincaid
“Don’t ever let nobody turn you into a cripple,” was the fervent advice young Ray Robinson received from his mother when he began gradually going blind at the tender age of 7. Years later, having dropped the “Robinson” in favor of his middle name, Ray Charles would cripple himself with a heroin habit but would also overcome immeasurable obstacles and prejudices to prevent anyone else from doing the same.
Ray, the latest flick with Oscar buzz, captures the life of the man behind the legend by resisting the temptation to overglorify him or downplay his flaws. Jamie Foxx breaks out of his typical goofball role to play the lead, perfecting Charles’ signature gesticulating and mile-wide grin—both ever present while his fingers dance on the keys. Even more impressive is Foxx’s mastery of Charles’ hepcat lingo, unmistakable humor, and effeminate, yet cool-as-a-cuke, speaking voice.
The film’s style of jumping back and forth from flashback to the present is by no means new, but it serves the complex story well. Plus, the flashbacks are artfully done, framing Charles’ impoverished sharecropping childhood in the dusty, red-clay haze of Northern Florida. The tragic drowning of his younger brother is heavily foreshadowed by the adult Charles’ melodramatic hallucinations of bloody water and dead baby feet, resulting in one of the film’s few overdone aspects.
Dotted by these explanatory flashbacks, the story follows Charles from Seattle to Harlem to L.A. on his initial quest for musical success. Both his personal life and his career are perpetually characterized by people’s attempts to take advantage of him due to his blindness. His early career takes him on the road as a backup pianist for a jazz band whose members treat him as less than human, until he quietly steals the spotlight from them, serenading audiences with his music and shmoozing the ladies with his intrinsic charm. Eventually, Charles leaves the band, convinced he’s being cheated out of money.
It doesn’t take long before Atlantic Records, sniffing the depth of his talent, comes knocking on Ray’s door. Though he’s discouraged at first when Atlantic exec Ahmet Ertegun (Curtis Armstrong) tells him frankly, “No one wants another Nat King Cole,” Charles jumps at the opportunity to sculpt his revolutionary style, blending gospel, R&B and jazz.
When it comes to his music, Charles can do no wrong. Incorporating “jungle music” and traditional gospel incites an outcry from staunch Christians, but it only multiplies his fanatical popularity with youngsters. In the midst of the Civil Rights movement, Charles refuses to play a segregated show in Georgia. Though he’s banned from the state, his popularity doesn’t suffer for his controversial stance.
Though he marries the sweet, southern Della Bea (Kerry Washington) in the early stages of his career, Charles continues to immerse himself in life on the road, with a deluge of drugs and women to tempt him at every corner. Throughout his climb to stardom, Charles spirals downward into the depths of heroin addiction; his characteristic stage-motions are no longer groove-inspired, but the spastic itching of a junkie.
Facing jail time, Charles is eventually forced into rehab, which turns out to be one of Ray’s standout sequences. Foxx takes the audience on a visceral journey as he exorcises his demons. The film’s continually surprising cinematography exemplifies the excruciating humanity of addiction.
Other highlights include the musical segments; from smoky, grimy bar scenes to glittery stages, there is a definite sense of the mood Charles was able to awaken in audiences. In the days when such flirting with debauchery was unthinkable, he inspired much booty-shakin’ with his exuberant, emotive voice.
Like a flower sprouting out of a concrete sidewalk, Charles’ heroic qualities overshadow the dark aspects of his life, from blindness to racism to drug addiction. In the end, however, Ray will win over audiences with its portrayal of the man, with all his flaws, allowing the stellar side to naturally exude from the legendary voice and presence of Ray Charles.
November 4, 2004 • Vol. 14, No. 45
© 2004 Metro Pulse
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