The Cast Of The Color Purple (And All Black Women In Hollywood) Deserves Better

The Color Purple press tour is in full swing. The movie adaptation of the Broadway musical based on Alice Walker’s 1982 novel — first brought to the big screen by Steven Spielberg, now directed by Blitz Bazawule — hits theaters on Christmas Day and stars Fantasia Barrino as Celie, Taraji P. Henson as Shug Avery, Danielle Brooks as Sophia, Colman Domingo as Mister, and Corey Hawkins as Harpo. Throughout the promotion cycle, we’ve seen the cast serve up looks on looks (seriously, Fantasia’s stylist has been working) on red carpets, deliver viral moments of impromptu singing on morning talk shows, and share heartwarming anecdotes about bonding with and protecting each other on set. We’ve watched Barrino, Henson, and Brooks speak on the sisterhood they built and what it means to continue the legacy of this groundbreaking Pulitzer Prize-winning Black text. But the story from this press tour that has emerged in the past 24 hours is one that is far bigger than the film.

In an interview with Gayle King for SiriusXM radio, Henson talked about the exhaustion she has felt as a Black woman in Hollywood who is constantly undervalued and underpaid. Through tears, Henson said, “I’m just tired of working so hard, being gracious at what I do, and getting paid a fraction of the cost. I’m tired of hearing my sisters say the same thing over and over.” Henson, an Academy Award nominee who has been in the business for over 20 years, went on to explain that she works a lot because she “has to” and that actors have whole teams to pay from their salaries. Using an example of someone making 10 million dollars (a salary that is rare for Black actresses), she broke down that taxes take half, then the talent’s team takes 30% of that gross income, “Now, do the math,” Henson said. “I’m only human and it seems that every time I break another glass ceiling, when it’s time to renegotiate I’m at the bottom again like I never did what I just did and I’m tired.. What is that telling me?” Brooks, a Tony nominee who has been working for a decade, is beside Henson in the interview and chimed in with, “And what does it tell me?”

It’s this admission from Brooks, a Black woman who has likely looked up to Henson throughout her career, that causes Henson to break. “If can’t fight for them coming up behind me, than what the fuck am I doing?” she asks as her voice wavers, letting out a sob while apologizing to King and covering her tear-stained face with her hands. This moment has gone viral with other Black women in Hollywood voicing support for Henson and sharing their own stories. Robin Thede, Keke Palmer, and Gabrielle Union are just a few of the Black women who joined in agreeing with Henson’s sentiments. Videos of Viola Davis and The Color Purple co-star Barrino talking about their own struggles with pay equity have also gone viral, with conversations about the financial barriers Black women in the entertainment industry face once again coming to the forefront of online discourse. 

In another conversation with Variety's Angelique Jackson for SAG-AFTRA, Henson also revealed that she almost turned down the role of Shug Avery in this adaptation of The Color Purple “over pay reasons in order to set an example for her female co-stars,” Variety reports. And here’s where I think the conversation evolves from just another necessary dispute over what all Black women are owed in Hollywood (the answer is, and always will be, exactly what their white, male counterparts receive) to a specific example of three of the most talented and brightest Black women stars in the industry getting less than they should — financially, creatively, and when it comes to recognition. 

The Color Purple tells the story of Celie, a poor Black girl in Georgia (the young version played by Phylicia Pearl Mpasi) who has been dealt, like so many Black women before her, a life of abuse, racism, loneliness and self-loathing. As Celie survives domestic violence from her father, her husband Mister (Domingo), and has her children stripped from her, she is on a journey of resilience, redemption, and self-discovery. Self-love and community care are the two forces that save Celie, and the beautiful message of The Color Purple is that the bonds of Black sisterhood can heal even the deepest wounds. In the original text, those bonds are tethered by romantic and platonic love — Celie clearly falls in love with the charismatic blues singer Shug, and her friendship with Sofia and unconditional love for her estranged sister Nettie (played by Halle Bailey and Ciara, respectively) carry her through her darkest moments. In the 1985 movie and the Broadway musical adaptation, Celie and Shug’s romance is more implied than explicit and the erasure of Celie’s queerness does a disservice to both. In the 2023 version, the oversight is an egregious misuse of Barrino and Henson’s talent. The omission of a true queer love story (they still kiss but its meaning is left slightly ambiguous) takes away from the beauty and potential boldness of this remake. 

I loved watching 2023’s The Color Purple. It is a vibrant spectacle packed with performances that will reignite your love of the movie musical genre. Fantasia Barrino is breathtaking — this word feels too small to truly encapsulate her brilliance — as Celie and as clear as it was back when she played the role on Broadway, she was born to stand in a spotlight and belt out “Yes, I am beautiful and I am here.” Taraji P. Henson is lively and electric as Shug, and her warmth radiates through the screen so much you can’t help but fall in love with her just as much as Celie and Mister do. Danielle Brooks as Sofie will burst open your heart and then break it. She’s both effervescent and agonizing in this role. I sobbed in the theater and smiled so big my face hurt. The music is revelatory and remarkable, made even more moving by the powerhouse cast and their voices (look out for a surprise hit by Hawkins’ Harpo singing an original song). I think this adaptation is worth a watch, and I hope many people spend their Christmases with Celie and her story. I want to make it clear how much I loved almost everything about the movie before I lay out why its shortcomings are so frustrating, not just narratively, but because the stakes are so much higher when it’s a film starring Black women. In her review, Andscape’s Brooke Obie (my former colleague here at Unbothered), wrote that Bazawule and his team made “a series of confounding choices that proves that nothing ‘bold’ or ‘new’ can come from diminishing Black queer women’s stories.” 

“Whatever the behind-the-scenes excuses were this time around, what’s clear is that gender and cultural specificity matters,” Obie writes. “If we weren’t going to get it, we at least needed a filmmaking team that would’ve been willing to fight over the erasure of the queer Black women’s love story. We needed a studio system that wouldn’t have even put the filmmakers in that position in the first place.” There are absolutely points to be made about Bazawule’s choices and the fact that a Black woman, specifically a Black queer woman, has never been given the opportunity to bring Walker’s text to life onscreen, but the more pressing issue to me is what Obie mentions about the studio system. Oprah is one of the film's producers but even she has said she had to beg Warner Bros. for more money for this remake. We have no idea what went on behind the scenes that may have watered down the story from its radical roots, or whose decision it was to relegate Celie and Shug’s love story to a subplot you have to squint to see. 

But Bazawule may have also just been going for a faithful adaptation of the Broadway musical and if that was the case, I think the film is a success. But choices were made, and the mixed reviews that are rightly pointing out that the lack of a truly bold update (something the posters and trailers have promised) is a missed opportunity. In a piece called “The Compromises of ‘The Color Purple’, writer Candice Frederick asks whether this adaptation was tweaked for the sake of mass appeal. “To be fair, this notion of compromise for the sake of, presumably, keeping ‘The Color Purple’ and Walker in the cultural conversation and rightfully profitable per Hollywood standards, isn’t anything we haven’t seen before,” Frederick writes. “This has been a familiar path for many successful Black feminists before and since Walker.” She then asks an imperative question of this remake that I think also relates to Henson’s press tour revelations: “Have we as a culture or Hollywood even evolved enough to adequately grapple with the story’s many complexities? Apparently not. Because we could really just be here again in the next 20 years, maybe with a talented Black female filmmaker at the helm, having the same conversations.” 

The Color Purple, at its core, is a radical feminist text about self-worth and what Black women deserve. Walker wrote it 40 years ago. To me, it’s fitting that we are now having conversations surrounding the film about what Black women are worth and what they deserve. Taraji P. Henson garnered an Oscar nomination for her work in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button opposite Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett and in her memoir she revealed that they “got millions” while she had to push for a salary of 150,000 (which she had to negotiate for). After taxes and paying her team, she walked away with $40,000. That works out to, reportedly, “less than 2%” of what Pitt earned. Henson has repeatedly said she thinks the leads earned their paychecks, but that she did too, and she was scared to push for more over concerns she would be replaced. See, how Hollywood works is that if you’re Black you’re replaceable and if you’re white, you’re worth millions. That movie came out in 2008. For years, Henson has been having the same conversation about how she’s had to fight for more in this industry. It’s not fair. And this is Taraji P. Henson we’re talking about. She has starred in hit TV shows (most famously as Cookie Lyon on Empire) and countless classic movies. If she’s not getting paid her due, who is? 

In the clip going viral, you can hear the helplessness in Henson’s voice. Especially in the moment when Brooks reveals that Henson’s plight makes her own feel even harder, you can see the defeat. I know that Henson breaks down because for Black women, there is comfort in thinking your struggles will at least help the next generation, that your fight will bear fruit for others. The realization that it might not is devastating. Across industries, Black women make 64% of what non-Hispanic white men are paid (according to stats from 2021) and as white women close wage gaps, Black women fall further behind. Black women's wage gap was worse in 2022 than it was in 2021. That gap exists in Hollywood, even if there isn’t as much hard data to back it up. What we do have are the anecdotes from Black women in the industry who continually share their frustrations while it seems like gender progress is reserved for white women only.

In 2018, Viola Davis shared that while she’s compared to Meryl Streep, she’s not on par with her white peers “not as far as money, not as far as job opportunities, nowhere close to it,” she said. We also all know the story of what happened to Mo’Nique after she refused to promote Precious overseas and campaign for an Oscar for free. She still won the Academy Award but instead of getting a career boost from the accolade, Mo’Nique was blackballed from Hollywood and then lowballed by Netflix for her comedy special. 

As Henson is getting support and praise for her brave comments, social media commenters are pushing back and wondering why she didn’t “wait” until the press tour was over to voice her concerns. As James Baldwin asked 35 years ago, “How much time do you want [me to wait] for your progress?” In a radio interview, Barrino is asked if she has a personal chef because, as the host implies, she must have more money than the average person. “You don’t know that,” Barrino replies frankly. “A lot of artists that you see, they look like they have it, and we smile and we come out and we put on a good show, [but] in real life, some of them are struggling and we don’t have it.” (Reminder that Barrino won American Idol 20 years ago and I would bet that what she makes compared to fellow winners Kelly Clarkson and Carrie Underwood isn't even close.) There’s a whole dissertation to be made on the trappings of Black excellence and the pressure to keep up with the Joneses in Black communities, especially in creative spaces, but I think the biggest question should be: how long should we wait for progress? 

This press tour, and this adaptation of The Color Purple which is stunning but not as progressive as it could have been, is a glaring example of what Black women continually have to endure in this industry. It’s easy to write off actors as being disconnected from reality, and assume that everyone is rich, but the truth is that the entertainment industry is a mirror of every other workplace where Black women are disrespected and taken advantage of. I hope this conversation doesn’t overshadow the greatness Brooks, Barrino, and Henson bring onscreen to The Color Purple. Their talent deserves better than a straightwashed plot and a movie that may have been hindered by a studio playing it safe. Their brilliance deserves better than an industry that refused to pay them for their worth. Unlike Celie in The Color Purple, I don’t have faith that these artists will find a happy ending and a revelatory resolution. But just like in the story, the strength of sisterhood is the only way forward. I applaud Henson’s bravery for speaking up when the spotlight is on her. She shouldn’t have to wait. Now is the time for progress. And with all of these Black women joining the chorus, will Hollywood finally hear their song?