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The Supremes at Earls All-You-Can-Eat Is All Ingredients, No Cooking

The Supremes at Earls All-You-Can-Eat Is All Ingredients, No Cooking

An “all-you-can-eat” diner is supposed to be the epitome of comfort, a rest stop where you can fill up before rejoining the hustle and bustle of modern life. A great diner knows its strengths and keeps them coming, but some bloat themselves with too many ideas. Tina Mabry’s new film The Supremes at Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat plays like a Golden Corral that’s begun to tarnish with an overstuffed menu of narrative choices, none of which arrive fully cooked.

Based on Edward Kelsey Moore’s 2013 novel, the film follows three friends, Odette (Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor), Clarice (Uzo Aduba) and Barbara Jean (Sanaa Lathan), from the early 1950s through the late 1990s as they share their lives together. Nicknamed “The Supremes” by Big Earl (Tony Winters), endearing owner of the titular all-you-can-eat spot, the girls gather at their regular booth to gossip, find love, mourn loss and support each other.

With three lives and 40 years to fill, Mabry and co-writer Cee Marcellus throw every predictable plot point into the pan and pray for the best. There’s abuse, alcoholism, adultery and cancer, with racial violence and interracial romance on top. The trouble is that the film lacks a lyrical symmetry to bind it all together. It all comes out like a loose, melodramatic meatloaf. Heightened emotional beats arrive seemingly out of nowhere with no development or resolve. It’s as if the events of the plot are supposed to provide gravity just because they happen. But plot does not impart flavor on its own. It must be earned and enriched with time spent simmering with the repercussions. Things happen too quickly, and they don’t seem to matter. The motifs of friendship, life/death and destiny/fate aren’t rendered with enough symbolism or meaning to stir the genuine emotional reaction a story like this wants to achieve. Instead, Mabry and Marcellus give the film an easily digestible sheen that keeps the story feeling superficial.

It leaves a sour taste to see such well-seasoned actresses smothered in cheese. You can see their talents being neglected, and these women deserve more. They are under-served by a script that tries to fold weighted prose into a shallow trajectory. For all the sopping emotional dialogue, Mabry and Marcellus give little time to let it bake in before moving on to the next poignant moment. We follow no tangible arc. The film is made up mostly of moments, bites of something juicy but not enough to satisfy. Watching these actresses work, you can tell how much they make out of so little. Someone get these women a Broadway show! They have the chemistry and chops to conquer complex material individually and as an ensemble.

Ellis-Taylor is perfect for Odette’s witchy firebrand personality. Ellis-Taylor can be wise beyond her years, yet incisive and cutting when practicality calls for it. She is the celestial foil to Aduba’s willful and grounded performance as Clarice. As the deeply in-tune musician, Clarice has both her feet firmly on the ground, sometimes stubbornly so. When she gets to dress down an adversary, we see just how profound her fortitude goes, even while her self-assurance is shaken. In the middle of these two is Sanaa Lathan’s mild-mannered Barbara Jean. She is the most watered-down character. Her moments aren’t as cathartic as Clarice and she barely gains the fortitude Odette has from the beginning. Lathan does what she can to make Barbara Jean feel like she has a presence in her own life, but things mostly happen to her, and she’s given the least screen time to develop. 

There are hints of something more consistently appetizing inside. The women cast to play younger versions of our leading women are a joy to watch. They have studied their counterparts and feel responsible for making their characters’ aging seem logical. The thoroughness with which Kyanna Simone, Abigail Achiri and Tati Gabrielle embody their characters helps Mabry cheat and establish a sense of connection over time that isn’t on the page. Big Earl’s wife, the boisterous Miss Minnie (Donna Biscoe), provides the most delicious moments in the film. Biscoe is blessedly acting for the back row. Miss Minnie’s outbursts are a continual touchstone that we return to as time passes. She is the true sense of consistency in the film, always there with fresh drama and outside commentary on how the times have changed. As a result, her journey is more clearly defined than the main characters.

Like other recent offerings for older actresses, The Supremes at Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat feels bland in its clichés and fails to deliver a result worthy of its ingredients. It is a blue plate special, a dish made up of different tropes past their prime and treated like a bargain. Despite the exceptional talent and promising story about friendship through adversity, The Supremes at Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat seems destined to be lost to Hulu’s own over-extended menu of lukewarm options and looked over in favor of more nourishing and enjoyable food.

Director: Tina Mabry
Writer: Cee Marcellus, Tina Mabry
Starring: Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, Sanaa Lathan, Uzo Aduba, Mekhi Phifer, Julian McMahon, Vondie Curtis-Hall, Russell Hornsby
Release Date: August 23, 2024 (Hulu)


B.L. Panther is a culture writer, scholar and Pisces from Northern Illinois. B! writes for outlets such as Honey Literary Journal and The Spool. A champion hermit, they enjoy reading, the indoors, afternoon naps and doing nothing at all.

 
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