Perry's movies have universality that's refreshing

Tyler Perry's movies aren't screened for critics. When one of his films opens on a Friday, none of the critics — local or national — has seen it, so you can't find reviews on opening day.

Some critics around the country review Perry's movies after they open (usually with lukewarm-to-negative appraisals), but in many venues they simply go unreviewed.

That's because they're "critic-proof." That is, they have a built-in audience and they don't cost much to make, so even modest returns mean solid profits.

His latest — "I Can Do Bad All By Myself" — was the No. 1 box-office hit two weeks ago. His previous film, "Madea Goes to Jail," which opened last February, also debuted at No. 1.

Of course, we're not talking "Transformers" or "Spider-Man" money here. When "I Can Do Bad" finally drops from the charts, it won't have made the kind of big bucks that the major studios crave.

But that's OK. Perry has made enough to be a mini-mogul. His films are aimed at and attract a specific audience, usually described in Hollywoodspeak as "urban," meaning "black."

Nothing wrong with that. At some point, Perry must have asked himself, where are the movies about African-American characters who are not involved in drugs and crime, who have the same relationship and family problems as Caucasians?

No one else seemed to be making those movies, so Perry identified a gap in the system and filled it by filming his own stage plays.

But the truth is, although most of the cast members in Perry's pictures are black, his stories are not so much about the black experience as they are about the human experience.

His films contain a universality that has often caused me to wonder why they haven't been able to break out to a larger, more diverse audience.

The redemptive themes are appealing; some of the characters are churchgoers in a natural, matter-of-fact way (how often do you see that in Hollywood movies?); and Perry hires engaging performers, including some of my favorite actors — Alfre Woodard and Kathy Bates in "The Family That Preys," Louis Gosset Jr. in "Daddy's Little Girls."

And in "I Can Do Bad All By Myself," Taraji P. Henson, who was Oscar-nominated for last year's "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button," as well as singers Gladys Knight and Mary J. Blige.

In addition to their acting roles, Knight and Blige deliver showstopping, raise-the-hair-on-the-back-of-your-neck, powerhouse songs — reason enough to lay down your eight bucks.

Henson gets a song, too, but it's her performance that holds the film together, a riveting portrayal of a self-destructive alcoholic who is forced to face up to family responsibilities.

But let's not oversell Perry's work. His movies have their flaws. They lack polish, they could be better paced, and they tend to run on too long, protracted by too many individual scenes that overstay their welcome (although that's a filmmaking disease that afflicts all too many writer-directors today).

Still, as a filmmaker, Perry seems to get better with each effort, and "I Can Do Bad" stands head-and-shoulders above most of this year's comedy-dramas, especially the raunchy, one-note farces that will likely dominate the end-of-the-year box-office list.

Perry's works are funny and dramatic, and they have something to say about people who have lost their way but make an effort to selflessly rebuild their lives.

Frank Capra would be proud.

e-mail: hicks@desnews.com