Why The Color Purple Musical (2023) Disappointed Me

I Wanted to Love This Movie

I wanted to love The Color Purple musical. That is probably the most important thing to understand about this review.

I grew up watching the original over and over. It is one of my favorite movies of all time. To me, the actors and actresses are iconic, and the director is one of the greatest. Oprah Winfrey’s Sofia, Whoopi Goldberg’s Celie, and the unforgettable Shug Avery are part of what makes that movie worth revisiting.

So I wasn’t walking into the theater without expectations. I was returning to a story and characters I already loved.

Maybe nostalgia set the bar high. I can admit that. When a movie has been part of your life for that long, another version has a lot to live up to. You remember the scenes, the lines, and how the performances made you feel. You want to experience some of that connection again, even if the new version takes a different approach.

But understanding my expectations doesn’t change my reaction. I was disappointed.

Other people could love this musical, and I could still leave the theater wishing I had enjoyed it more. I’m not here to tell anyone they were wrong for liking it. This is my review, and I didn’t like it.

I Loved the Acting—Then Another Song Started

Let me give the movie credit where I feel it earned it: I enjoyed the acting.

That is part of what made the experience frustrating. There were moments when I would get pulled into a performance and feel interested in what was happening. Then another musical number would start, and I would find myself waiting for it to end.

Yes, I knew I was watching a musical. The singing itself wasn’t the problem. My problem was that I wasn’t enjoying what I was hearing.

I wanted the music to deepen my connection to the characters. Instead, it often interrupted the connection I was beginning to feel. I would be ready to stay with a scene, only to spend the next stretch of it wishing we could get back to the dialogue.

That is not how I want to feel during a musical. I want the songs to be part of the reason I’m watching, not something I’m trying to get through.

The acting gave me something to appreciate. The music kept taking me out of it.

Where Were the Bops?

I wish I could have liked the songs more. I really do.

But to my ears, the music was terrible. There weren’t any real bops—nothing that made me want to leave the theater and immediately hear it again.

“Hell No!” tried its best. I’ll give it that. But it was no “God Is Trying to Tell You Something.”

That is the kind of musical moment I was hoping for: something that would move me, stay with me, and make me want to revisit the scene. For me, that song in the original film has a feeling that goes beyond simply enjoying a performance. It is one of the moments I look forward to when I watch the movie again.

The musical never gave me that same feeling.

And let me clarify something from my initial reaction: the problem wasn’t that I didn’t already know the songs. A new song has to be unfamiliar at some point. I didn’t need to walk into the theater knowing the words.

I didn’t need to walk into the theater knowing the words. I needed to walk out wanting to learn them.

Give me something I want to sing in the car. Give me a number that makes me sit up in my seat. Give me a reason to search for the soundtrack afterward.

Instead, I kept waiting for the next song to finish. The songs didn’t have to be familiar, but I wanted them to become favorites. They never quite got there for me.

The Story Was Familiar, but the Feeling Was Different

The story was familiar, but somehow it felt strange.

Does that make sense?

I recognized the characters. I knew the relationships. I understood why certain moments were supposed to matter. But recognizing a scene is not the same as feeling connected to it.

With the original, I’m emotionally invested even when I know exactly what is coming. That familiarity is part of the pleasure of watching it again. I can anticipate a line and still enjoy hearing it. I can know how a scene ends and still get caught up in the performance.

With the musical, I spent too much time noticing the distance between the story I loved and the version in front of me.

I wasn’t asking for every scene to be copied. If everything had been exactly the same, I would have questioned the point of making another version. But I wanted the changes to give me something that felt worth returning for.

For me, they didn’t.

That doesn’t mean the movie had no redeeming qualities. It means that the parts I appreciated weren’t enough to overcome the parts I disliked.

I can’t speak for every fan of the original. But as someone who grew up loving it, this reimagining didn’t give me what I came for.

Why Did It Feel So Long?

A movie feels especially long when you keep waiting for parts of it to end.

If I had loved the songs, I might have wanted more of them. If the musical numbers had pulled me further into the story, I probably wouldn’t have been thinking about how much movie was left.

But when another song meant another stretch of waiting to get back to the story, I started feeling every minute.

That is why “It was too long!” remains one of my biggest complaints. It wasn’t simply about the amount of time I spent in the theater. It was about how that time felt.

I wanted the movie to build momentum. Too often, I felt as though I would start getting interested and then have to wait for it to find its way back to what had caught my attention.

By the end, I felt relief that I had gotten through it. I wanted to leave feeling moved, excited, or eager to talk about a favorite musical moment. Instead, I was thinking about the experience I wished I’d had.

I Didn’t Need Another Version—I Wanted Another Story

The more I thought about my disappointment, the more I realized that I wasn’t against something new.

I would have welcomed new songs, new writers, new talent, and a different creative direction. But I wish that energy had gone into telling another story within that world instead of reimagining the one I already loved.

Maybe they should have left that story alone and given us a Shug Avery spin-off.

Now that is something I would have been interested in watching.

Shug is a character who makes me curious. Give me a story that spends more time with her—not simply what she means to the other characters, but who she is when the attention stays on her.

What would a movie centered on Shug choose to explore? Her ambitions? Her relationships? The experiences behind the confidence she presents to the world? There are directions a new story could take without asking me to compare every major moment with a favorite scene from the original.

And if that story were a musical, new songs could help introduce us to a different part of her life. I could meet the music on its own terms instead of waiting for it to recreate an old feeling.

Or give us more time with Celie and Nettie after their reunion. Let us discover what comes next rather than return to the same familiar events.

These are the kinds of possibilities that interest me. I don’t need every question answered or every character given a spin-off. But if we are going back to this world, I want a reason to feel curious about where we’re going.

Familiar Titles Are Not Enough

This is where my frustration with studios comes in.

To me, returning to a familiar title without giving me a compelling new experience feels lazy. The name might get my attention, but recognition alone is not enough to make me love the movie.

I understand my own contradiction here: I wanted something that respected my attachment to the original, but I also wanted something new. Those wishes don’t cancel each other out.

A different story could have let me revisit that world without spending the whole movie comparing it with the one I grew up watching.

Instead, I got a reimagining that reminded me how much I preferred the earlier film.

Maybe another viewer found exactly what they wanted in it. I didn’t. The performances couldn’t make me love the songs, and knowing the story couldn’t create the emotional connection I was missing.

I wanted more imagination—not simply a familiar name presented in a different form.

Did the Musical Work for You?

I wanted to love The Color Purple musical, but wanting to love a movie and actually enjoying it are two different things.

I appreciated the acting. I didn’t enjoy the music. And while nostalgia certainly shaped my expectations, it wasn’t the only reason I left disappointed. I was open to being won over. The movie just didn’t do it for me.

Did the musical work for you? Were there songs you wanted to hear again? And would you rather see another reimagining or a new story centered on someone like Shug Avery?

Share your thoughts in the comments.

References & Further Reading

These links provide background on the movie musical and its soundtrack. The reactions and opinions in this review are my own.

Playbill: The Color Purple Movie Musical Soundtrack Released December 15; Hear Fantasia’s “I’m Here” — Background on the soundtrack and the screen adaptation of the Broadway musical.
Billboard: Behind the Music of The Color Purple — A different perspective on the music and how the soundtrack came together.
Warner Bros. Pictures, WaterTower Music and gamma.: The Color Purple Soundtrack Release Announcement — Official release information, cast details, and adaptation credits.