Only time—and, purportedly, a third film—will tell if this move is one of audacity or outright stupidity.
Bernie Mac and Isaac Hayes, to whom the movie is dedicated, have had their genuine soul posthumously obscured by this slapstick misfire.
This Christmas eventually winds up feeling like a lot of past ones.
The film proudly flaunts its maker’s right to make movies as badly as Bart Freundlich, Peyton Reed, and Woody Allen.
From stage to film to DVD, will the Dreamgirls nightmare ever end?
Beyoncé’s range will be called into question but what about the film’s?