There are two different ways to tell the story of someone’s life, especially when that someone is famous. One way is to hire a dead ringer to do the walking and talking as the film serves up a highlight reel of the moments the adoring public remembers most. The result is “Men of Honor” or “Introducing Dorothy Dandridge”– perfectly serviceable, if routine, films that present their characters as immutable things of the past. The films themselves feel like extended flashbacks or well-worn book reports. The second and more interesting way is to do what “Ali,” “Antwone Fisher” and “Boycott” did. These films envisioned their historical figures as flesh and blood people, three-dimensional humans living out their lives with no sense of import or relevance. They are regular folk who don’t know they’re impacting history forever.
Right in the middle of the two avenues is “Ray,” which somehow takes both routes while remaining a rewarding and immensely likeable film.
Doing most of the breathing is Jamie Foxx, an actor who thankfully deserves the hype he’s been receiving. A gifted mimic, Foxx embodies Charles’ toothy grin and rapid-fire, almost melodic speech patterns with grace. Perhaps a bit more buffed than Charles may have been at his age, Foxx nevertheless seems to shrink into the skin of Charles.
But Foxx’s performance isn’t all smoke and mirrors. As Charles, Foxx maintains his killer comedic timing, making Ray somebody people were drawn to, especially women. We learn that Ray smiles so much because he has so much pain to hide from those close to him. Not exactly a sad clown clich, Ray is a hard-working man who enjoys his life and doesn’t want his demons to drag him down. Those demons did not spring from a life of blindness but more specifically from what made him go blind -a metaphysical reason that serves both the story and the character well.
This damaging mark on Ray’s soul pushes him to use heroine, a fact Ray was not exactly ashamed of but didn’t want to share either.
The film starts with Ray venturing out on the road in search of work. Being blind, he is mostly coddled and treated like a sideshow act, a role Ray seems accustomed to but undermines with his casual brilliance. Soon he picks up with a traveling band led by Fathead Newman (Bokeem Woodbine), where he is often treated like the younger brother no one wants to play with. In order to get respect, Ray demands to be let in on the reindeer games and ends up getting a shot of heroine, something Newman wipes his hands of. Counter to most musical biographies, the drugs do nothing to slow his rise to fame as he leaves the group to fly solo – a move that changed everything for him.
Moving to Chicago, he meets Della Bea, a nice church girl played with subtle authenticity by the underappreciated Kerry Washington. The two are quickly married, but Della finds the honeymoon brief as Ray continues his arduous road schedule, having little time to stop for cuddling or kids. Patient and yielding, Washington does not get a huge focus in “Ray,” but what time she does get she uses wisely. Most of the film is dedicated to his time creating hits, something that seemed effortless for him. Indeed, the hit song “Tell Me What I Say,” is a spontaneous song that Ray creates out of thin air to fill time. Director Taylor Hackford seems intent on showing that Charles was a genius in many respects, a mysterious black box of musical and financial acumen that allowed the artist to create music is several different genres and get rich doing it – a rare feat now, even more rare for a Black artist in the ’50s and ’60s. But where the film doesn’t lay bare his creative process, it works to show the inner-working of his personal life.
Aside from drugs, women were another of Ray’s weaknesses. The faces are many, but it’s Regina King, who we first meet trying out to be “Raylette” that truly stands out. Like a ventriloquist, King is able to emote a completely different feeling while singing for Ray during an audition. Their relationship is typically rocky but Ray somehow spins gold from it with the song”Hit the Road Jack.” While King is best known for her raging fits, her first moments here show a diversified talent. Speaking of which, Clifton Powell, who is normally called upon to scowl and growl, plays sympathetic as Jeff, Ray’s former bus driver turned manager who gets upstaged by new blood (Harry J. Lennix).
“Ray” hits a lot of familiar biographical territory, especially with his early childhood (whose sequences are rendered with vibrant colors, as opposed to the flat present) led by his hard-working mama (Sharon Warren). The well-worn thread of religion vs. secular music even comes into play as Ray dangerously mixes gospel with rhythm and blues. But none of it feels overdone or boring.