Ray Charles' life may be one of the more unique tales of self-discovery and creative growth of our time. Born into poverty in rural Georgia, Ray watched his brother drown as a child, only to lose his eyesight at age seven. And yet, Ray Charles rose above tough beginnings and crippling blindness to emerge as one of the most innovative and revered entertainers of the 20th century, touching every musical form from gospel to R&B to country. Even when extramarital affairs and a rampant drug addiction threatened to de-rail his career, Ray's love of music motivated him to defeat his personal faults. Can any actor, any director, any film capture the spirit of such an inspiring subject?
Well, sort of. Though Charles' record is a daunting matter, Taylor Hackford's new movie, simply called Ray, is a nice synopsis of Charles' music, times and personal journey. With rising star Jamie Foxx -- who has the benefit of resembling Ray Charles -- in the title role, Hackford examines the career of a man who earned 12 Grammys and delved into almost every musical style. Often an impressive collection of facts and anecdotes instead of a smooth narrative, Ray is keenly conscious of Charles' all-consuming dedication to his art and his genuine versatility.
After flexing his dramatic talents in the well-received Collateral last summer, Foxx has finally landed a serious leading role. Although this is an intense performance -- Foxx even glued his eyes shut during the filming -- the one-time funny-man has not left behind his comic roots. Foxx's Ray is not only an impassioned performer, but an accomplished womanizer and a slick businessman. This comic ease makes Foxx's character witty and endearing, but it also makes the film's drama more crushing. Clearly, Foxx has no trouble conveying the pain of ostracism and the sting of personal regret -- a sign of dramatic gifts that only the best actors, or for that matter, comedians, can truly hone.
With appropriately awkward body language and a fine feel for both subtle emotion and forceful expression, Foxx dominates Ray, but at the expense of everyone else. From what we see of her, Charles' wife Bea (Kerry Washington) is depicted as a woman of intense devotion and fierce love. But besides urging Ray to give up heroin, she is left in the dust. All the other characters, from Charles' other female interests (played by Aunjanue Ellis and Regina King) to his producers and fellow musicians, exist merely to react to Charles' trials and triumphs.
Beautifully filmed, Ray presents a frenetic, colorful picture of Charles' development from his youth to mid-adulthood. Like some of Charles' best music, Hackford's work bombards us with sound and raw emotion. Yet Ray never diverts from its hyperactive pace long enough for us to savor the depth of Charles' accomplishments, or for that matter, the film's insights. Tragedy and comedy are sometimes juxtaposed, as when Foxx's Ray, after a blistering dispute with a pregnant lover, breaks into a vengeful rendition of "Hit the Road Jack." Within even the darkest dialogue, Hackford's script is peppered with offbeat humor. Just for fun, see how many puns on Ray's blindness you can find. There are quite a few.
More than in Hackford's previous films (An Officer and a Gentleman, Devil's Advocate) one would expect Ray to follow the mold of such features as Ali, The Hurricane, and Malcolm X -- all proud, powerful depictions of African-American culture with extraordinary protagonists. However, Hackford's latest piece proceeds much (in fact, a little too much) like Ron Howard's A Beautiful Mind. Both focus on an unbelievably flawed genius with a savior of a wife, the search for true inspiration, and one-track supporting characters. Let's face it, personal awakening follows something of a pattern.
Ray nonetheless sheds valuable light on a musical legend, and on some accounts, the essence of genius itself. Those of us who regard Ray Charles as the veteran performer who passed away this year may never have thought of him as a young man, riddled with psychological anguish and a virulent drug habit. Set against Charles' own music, Ray takes us from Charles' early days in nightclubs and country bands to his career as one of ABC Records' superstars. There is nothing but sympathy for Ray's focus, and one often feels that Charles' gift lifted him to mythic proportions.
It should come as no surprise that Charles' family helped to produce Ray. Indeed, both Foxx and Hackford deserve credit for making an uplifting, stylized one-man show. Perhaps Ray may not have the popular touch or sense of constant originality that distinguished Charles' songs. But in each scene, we see the same passion for subject that made Ray Charles' works revered, revealing, and just like Ray itself, ultimately satisfying.
