Glitter
dir. Vondie Curtis-Hall
Fox
Sprinkling fairy dust and gobbledygook, Glitter is the grinning village idiot of the
multiplex. It gleefully skips along without making a lick of sense. Be careful not to
ingest what this poorly wrapped rags-to-riches tale is peddling.
R&B singer Mariah Carey shimmers front and center as Billie, a young woman who has inherited her mother's soulful voice. Billie's past is simple: As a girl, she is separated from her unstable black mamma and moved into an orphanage because her cold, white father would never claim her. Had her history had been revealed with more warmth, one might feel something for Billie. As it is, her childhood is presented in flat, glib flashes.
Billie does not get interesting with age. Instead, she blooms into a twenty-something-
year old smiling shadow. Uncomplicated by dreams, convictions, attitude, flair or
humor, Billie shakes her stuff as a club dancer and goes about her airy, la-la life. She is a
plastic mannequin with a knack for breathing. Her gorgeous body is apparent, but there
are no signs of inner intelligence. Billie is unappealing.
Yet men enjoy doing things for Billie. A crooked, small-time producer (Terrence Howard,
The Best Man) turns her into a background singer. A minor New York City celebrity,
D.J. Dice (Max Beesley, The Match), introduces her to powerful music men and
launches her career. Occasionally, both men also treat Billie like property, but often she
repays them with gratitude. She seems delighted to be free from decision making as if
she fears thinking might ruin her hair.
Because of Billie, there can be no compelling conflict in Glitter. She never fights for or against anything. As a background singer, Billie shrugs as a producer steals her voice
and assigns it to the tone-deaf lead singer, who happens to be sleeping with the producer.
On the road to diva-hood, Billie watches silently as her friends and most of her clothes
are axed from her music video. Half-naked before a blank white screen, Billie blinks, but
she does not protest. Even the death of a loved one fails to arouse great emotions in her.
But maybe Billie should not shoulder the total blame. She is, after all, largely the result
of Carey's stilted acting efforts. Well-lit and wide-eyed, Carey has one face, one
tone and no spark. What remains is a record company's idea of a grown woman and
Carey's irrepressible golden voice. When she sings, she effortlessly floats along the
octave scale. Yet when she recites dialogue, she sinks faster than a stone tossed into the
sea.
Outside of a weak plot, shoddy characters and a misled star, Glitter also offers cotton-candy '80s music. The tunes are below Carey's talents, but she seems sadly willing to
stoop. The lyrics are puffy, sticky, sugary and laughable. The beats boom incessantly at
full volume. The music lacks the trashy wit to be tacky fun, an awful shame.
Glitter at least could have been a collection of up-tempo music videos. Instead, the film is a long embarrassment under the illusion that it has a message and a heroine worth
watching. When the movie whimpers out, there are triumphant trumpets, but no winners.
No matter how loud, sweet and glossy the movie attempts to be, there is no way to ignore
its brittle core. Glitter is not gold.
— Rasheed Newson (rasheednewson@hotmail.com)
