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Dreamgirls
And I am telling you that I am going... to see Dreamgirls... on Christmas Day.
That's right -- it's 9:00am on the holiest day of the year, the paper still a-crinklin' on freshly unwrapped presents, and all I can think about is just how hard Beyonce is going to knock my socks off tonight (girlfriend's already doing it with B*Day, which gets about five listens a day on my iPod.) Jennifer Hudson is like totally gonna win an Oscar. Anika Noni Rose is the cutest! Oh yeah... Jamie Foxx AND Eddie Murphy. All these incredible stars, working together, with masterful Bill Condon at the helm?
OMG.
The anticipation for Dreamgirls has been percolating in this young editor's mind (in her heart!) since earlier this year. I recall sitting in a crowded New York City megaplex, waiting for the next installment of some crapola blockbuster, when this dark, mysterious trailer melted off my entire face with its explosive sultriness -- the blue, the smoke, the sequins! I wanted to die right there... But I had no idea why. What was this Dreamgirls? Why was I the only person below 14th St. who didn't own the vinyl and tape cassette and CD recordings of the original Broadway cast?
Whatever. I get it now. The parade of nonstop media coverage -- with every establishment from The New York Observer to Vanity Fair to The New Yorker singing the film's praises -- taught me that Dreamgirls was a big, huge musical in the early 80s, and everyone's been dying for it to appear on the silver screen, and now it is. With Beyonce. And that's awesome.
Though a longer version with much more footage has since been released, here's the original "teaser" trailer that left me in a puddle on the theater floor. Merry Christmas!
