It's 1994. Seventy-eight million people are tuning in to watch the American Music Awards, unaware that they are about to witness one of the greatest live performances ever recorded. Nine years after her self-titled first album was released, Whitney Houston brings the house (and countless living rooms) down with the now iconic, three-song medley of "I Loves You Porgy," "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going" and "I Have Nothing." It is 10 minutes of astonishing vocal power and unmatched charisma. She also takes home seven awards from the event. Rightfully so, this is where I Wanna Dance with Somebody begins.
Directed by Kasi Lemmons, written by Anthony McCarten, and starring Naomi Ackie as Whitney Houston, I Wanna Dance with Somebody is standard biopic fare. It is a linear timeline chronicling Houston's adult life: singing back-up for her mother's nightclub act, being discovered and managed by best-in-the-biz Clive Davis, her meteoric rise to fame and record-breaking successes, the tumultuous, toxic relationship with Bobby Brown, substance abuse, the tabloid nightmare that followed, rehab, a hopeful comeback, and her devastating death at age 48 in 2012.
Early in the movie, Houston's mother, Emily, better known as Cissy (Tamara Tunie) — a talented singer in her own right — tells her that good singing comes from the "head, heart and gut." With a career spanning just over 25 years, Lemmons knows that good filmmaking does, too. Houston's story is one we all know because of the relentless, often cruel, media coverage at the time. However, always a compassionate and empathetic storyteller, Lemmons shines an empowering light on her, one full of agency and complexities, choosing to focus on the triumphs instead of the tragedy. I can't say the same for many other films about famous women, documentary and fictionalized alike, that lean into the negative sensationalism of their careers and personal lives.
In that way, I Wanna Dance with Somebody might be too sugarcoated for some, as it shies away from, or only briefly shows, the worst moments. But, like I said, most of us already watched the sad story unfold publicly in magazines and on television, leaving no reason to relive it detail by painful detail. As we are all well aware by now, thanks to our public reckoning with how we've treated female pop stars over the decades, many of them are still getting their due. While no one has ever diminished Houston's talent (I mean, how could you?), it is easy to forget or downplay the major role she played in her own success. Lemmons brings that to the forefront.
Once Houston signed with Arista Records in 1983, she painstakingly chose her singles, then reworked their arrangements to suit her style, making them into the hits that took the world by storm. From "How Will I Know" to "Saving All My Love For You" and "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" to "I Will Always Love You," she executed her creative vision with determination and fervour. In these decisions, she refused to bend to others' expectations. And, despite criticism that she wasn't "Black enough," she only made music that felt true and good to her.
The biopic also does a wonderful, tender job at illuminating some of the more positive relationships in her life with the people that loved her unconditionally — her mother, manager Clive Davis (Stanley Tucci), and girlfriend/bestie/collaborator Robyn Crawford (Nafessa Williams). All three actors are well-cast; Tunie balances sternness with devotion, Tucci is as charming as ever, and Crawford is the film's breakout with a warm, playful and heartbreaking performance. As an aside, I am thrilled that Lemmons didn't avoid the queerness of Houston and Crawford's relationship, especially early on in their 20s.
As Houston, Ackie is captivating, mastering the singer's mannerisms to a tee, quite convincingly lip syncing to Houston's singing (a smart choice, because the fact of the matter is, no one else has that range, and she was nicknamed "The Voice" for a reason). That being said, the problem with a lot of biopics and any actor trying to capture a singular artist is just that: they are singular and irreplaceable. But Ackie is as good as we were ever going to get — high praise given the shoes she was tasked to fill.
Despite occasionally veering into melodrama and a few cringey lines (for instance, when hearing the titular song for the first time, Houston says, "...It's about wanting to dance with somebody."), I Wanna Dance with Somebody is an ode to the brightest star, an absolute queen, the GOAT, and, most importantly, a three-dimensional woman who deserves our utmost respect. If nothing else, it serves its purpose and the purpose of all biopics: leaving audiences with the burning desire to watch hours upon hours of the real person on YouTube.
(Sony)Directed by Kasi Lemmons, written by Anthony McCarten, and starring Naomi Ackie as Whitney Houston, I Wanna Dance with Somebody is standard biopic fare. It is a linear timeline chronicling Houston's adult life: singing back-up for her mother's nightclub act, being discovered and managed by best-in-the-biz Clive Davis, her meteoric rise to fame and record-breaking successes, the tumultuous, toxic relationship with Bobby Brown, substance abuse, the tabloid nightmare that followed, rehab, a hopeful comeback, and her devastating death at age 48 in 2012.
Early in the movie, Houston's mother, Emily, better known as Cissy (Tamara Tunie) — a talented singer in her own right — tells her that good singing comes from the "head, heart and gut." With a career spanning just over 25 years, Lemmons knows that good filmmaking does, too. Houston's story is one we all know because of the relentless, often cruel, media coverage at the time. However, always a compassionate and empathetic storyteller, Lemmons shines an empowering light on her, one full of agency and complexities, choosing to focus on the triumphs instead of the tragedy. I can't say the same for many other films about famous women, documentary and fictionalized alike, that lean into the negative sensationalism of their careers and personal lives.
In that way, I Wanna Dance with Somebody might be too sugarcoated for some, as it shies away from, or only briefly shows, the worst moments. But, like I said, most of us already watched the sad story unfold publicly in magazines and on television, leaving no reason to relive it detail by painful detail. As we are all well aware by now, thanks to our public reckoning with how we've treated female pop stars over the decades, many of them are still getting their due. While no one has ever diminished Houston's talent (I mean, how could you?), it is easy to forget or downplay the major role she played in her own success. Lemmons brings that to the forefront.
Once Houston signed with Arista Records in 1983, she painstakingly chose her singles, then reworked their arrangements to suit her style, making them into the hits that took the world by storm. From "How Will I Know" to "Saving All My Love For You" and "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" to "I Will Always Love You," she executed her creative vision with determination and fervour. In these decisions, she refused to bend to others' expectations. And, despite criticism that she wasn't "Black enough," she only made music that felt true and good to her.
The biopic also does a wonderful, tender job at illuminating some of the more positive relationships in her life with the people that loved her unconditionally — her mother, manager Clive Davis (Stanley Tucci), and girlfriend/bestie/collaborator Robyn Crawford (Nafessa Williams). All three actors are well-cast; Tunie balances sternness with devotion, Tucci is as charming as ever, and Crawford is the film's breakout with a warm, playful and heartbreaking performance. As an aside, I am thrilled that Lemmons didn't avoid the queerness of Houston and Crawford's relationship, especially early on in their 20s.
As Houston, Ackie is captivating, mastering the singer's mannerisms to a tee, quite convincingly lip syncing to Houston's singing (a smart choice, because the fact of the matter is, no one else has that range, and she was nicknamed "The Voice" for a reason). That being said, the problem with a lot of biopics and any actor trying to capture a singular artist is just that: they are singular and irreplaceable. But Ackie is as good as we were ever going to get — high praise given the shoes she was tasked to fill.
Despite occasionally veering into melodrama and a few cringey lines (for instance, when hearing the titular song for the first time, Houston says, "...It's about wanting to dance with somebody."), I Wanna Dance with Somebody is an ode to the brightest star, an absolute queen, the GOAT, and, most importantly, a three-dimensional woman who deserves our utmost respect. If nothing else, it serves its purpose and the purpose of all biopics: leaving audiences with the burning desire to watch hours upon hours of the real person on YouTube.
