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Well, it's November. Oscar season is upon us. What's this? A two-hour plus movie about a real-life dead guy that actually isn't an ass-kissing piece of Hollywood crap? Whether you ever listened to Ray Charles beyond his Diet Pepsi jingles or not, this is simply a damn good movie that's well worth the effort.

Jamie Foxx IS Ray Charles. If he takes the golden boy this year (yes, there has been "buzz" already), it won't be some "let's make it the year of the negro" PC stunt by the Academy like that oh-so-cuddly night a couple of years ago when both Denzel and Halle garnered undeserved trophies on the same magical show that gave a lifetime achievement award to Sydney Poitier an hour previous for the "See? We LOVE black people!" photo op at the end with all three of them. No, affirmative action wouldn't matter on this one. This would be an actual "damn, what a great performance" award.

Supported by a flawless ensemble that's way too long to name names on (must say though that the unknown who plays Ray's mom deserves some serious recognition for this one), Foxx makes this thing happen. The story basically chronicles Charles' life from 1948 to around 1963, then does a quick skip way ahead at the end that makes the very ending slightly forced and unsatisfying, but that could also be simply because it's just hard to want the flick to end anyway. Interspliced with flashbacks to Charles' childhood in rural Georgia, the plot moves at a pace that stays consistent and stays entertaining. Every emotional moment is earned, none of this "Angels in America" crap where you're a bad person if you aren't moved and changed forever by the mere fact that a character has a handicap.

The film is advertized as "a Taylor Hackford film." Color me ignorant, but I was kind of confused by this, seeing as how I don't know who the hell Taylor Hackford is. They put it over the title like he's Steven Spielberg or some shit. Anyway, the good news is that the guy can direct (whoever he is). Yes, the music serves as a character of its own, some may even call it cheating to make a movie that can be moved forward so effortlessly by music, but it does serve as the one teency drawback as well. Charles himself laid down the tunes for this one, and does the singing that Jamie Foxx is shown doing. Sadly, this lip-synching is a tad obvious. While Foxx does a great Charles voice, the actual sound changes when going from him talking to him singing, making it look more like he's... well, lip synching. We're not talking Ashlee Simpson level, but it's noticeable. Other than that, no complaints. Someone hurry up and make a movie about Tupac that stars a died-skinned Freddie Prinze Jr. so I can go back to making fun of stuff, damn it.

(five bongs)

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