Producers: Harvey Mason Jr., Scott Bernstein, Jonathan Glickman and Stacey Sher   Director: Liesl Tommy   Screenplay: Tracey Scott Wilson   Cast: Jennifer Hudson, Forest Whitaker, Marlon Wayans, Audra McDonald, Marc Maron, Tituss Burgess, Mary J. Blige, Skye Dakota Turner, Heather Headley, Kimberly Scott, Hailey Kilgore, Saycon Sengbloh, Leroy McClain, Albert Jones, Tate Donovan, Gilbert Glenn Brown and Lodric D. Collins   Distributor: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer

Grade: C

Aretha Franklin was a remarkable artist, the Queen of Soul whose accolades over her long career—enumerated at the close of Liesl Tommy’s biopic—testify to her contributions to both music and American society.  A pity, then, that the film is so clumsily episodic and pedestrian.  Though handsomely made, “Respect” is thoroughly conventional, resembling nothing so much as the mediocre movies about musicians that were churned out in the 1950s.

Franklin lived to be 76, dying in 2018, but the script by Tracey Scott Wilson is limited to a two-decade span between 1952 and 1972, and posits a sort of “Rosebud” to its rather familiar trajectory of rise, fall and redemption: the rape she suffered as a child (played by Skye Dakota Turner) in the Detroit home of her minister father C.L. (Forest Whitaker), who had her sing not only for his guests at his house parties, but in his church as well.  The episode is staged in a discreet but creepy fashion here, bound to cause viewers to squirm. The film suggests that it was a primary factor in Franklin’s troubled emotional development, though there are also others, most notably Aretha’s separation from her mother Barbara (Audra McDonald), a singer whom she idolizes and is occasionally permitted to visit.

From this point the narrative proceeds in strict chronology via dated sequences that skip about geographically.  Aretha (now played by Jennifer Hudson) is introduced to the civil rights movement by her father, and gains the friendship of Martin Luther King, Jr. (Gilbert Glenn Brown).  But she also meets handsome, smooth-talking Ted White (Marlon Wayans), and despite her father’s fierce opposition, marries him.  He also becomes her manager, moving her from Columbia Records, where her LPs haven’t fared very well, to Atlantic, where ebullient producer Jerry Wexler (Marc Maron) cannily joins her with the Muscle Shoals band in Alabama to fashion a style that takes off.  Her sisters Erma (Saycon Sengbloh) and Carolyn (Hailey Kilgore) also join her as backup singers.

But White proves as controlling as her father had been, and abusive as well, especially after his role in her success is diminished.  Aretha finally breaks with him, finding a new partner in Ken Cunningham (Albert Jones), the manager of her European tour.  By this time, however, she has become addicted to drugs and booze, and literally falls off a stage while high.

What rescues Aretha from her “demons” is the return to her Gospel roots with the “Amazing Grace” album of 1972, on which she receives encouragement from James Cleveland (Tituss Burgess), her father’s former choir director and now a pastor in a Los Angeles church where the record is recorded.  To Wexler’s surprise, the record is hugely popular, revitalizing her career.

Wilson’s decision to concentrate on this twenty-year period of Franklin’s long life is certainly defensible, but the up-down-up arc it imposes on her story is one that’s practically a given in musical biographies.  And by dividing the narrative into relatively short, self-contained segments, the treatment becomes lumpy and shapeless, a quality accentuated by the flatness of Tommy’s direction throughout. The saving grace to the structure is that some of the sequences show how Franklin molded numbers during the recording sessions into something unique, her improvisation a symbol of how she’s taking control not only of her music, but of her life.

The real glory of the film, however, are the musical numbers, performed by Hudson with passion and vibrancy—it’s no wonder that Franklin insisted that Hudson should play her.  Hudson also throws herself into the dramatic scenes, though here one gets the sense that she’s trying very hard to deliver what’s required but not quite managing it. 

The only other cast members making substantial contributions are Whitaker and Wayans, and while both are excellent, they can’t overcome the fact that as written C.L. and White remain a mite opaque.  Among the many others—the screenplay is filled with so many characters that it’s sometimes hard to keep them straight– Maron makes the strongest impression, but Kimberly Scott is a comforting presence as Franklin’s grandmother Rachel, and Mary J. Blige offers a powerful cameo as Dinah Washington, who teaches the young Aretha a shocking lesson about respecting one’s elders.

And despite its various weaknesses, “Respect” is technically proficient.  Ina Mayhew’s production design gets the period details right, and Clint Ramos’ costumes are spot on, especially in recreating Franklin’s extravagant onstage attire.  Cinematographer Kramer Morganthau’s work isn’t especially imaginative, but it is reliable, and Avril Beukes’ editing, while hobbled by the episodic nature of the storytelling, is adequate.

“Respect” is certainly respectful of its subject, and in general it’s a respectable attempt at covering the formative period of Franklin’s life.  But its fractured structure and limp direction make for a “just one thing after another” feel.  Aretha Franklin has still not gotten the biographical treatment she deserves.