Dreamgirls

This morning I saw Dreamgirls, starring Beyonce Knowles and Jennifer Hudson.

What was supposed to be an energetic extravaganza nearly turned into a nap for me. How do you spell over-hyped? D.R.E.A.M.G.I.R.L.S.

First, Jennifer Hudson.

God love her, she's beautiful, she can sing and I'm incredibly proud of her for beating former American Idol winner Fantasia for this coveted part—but she's not an actress.

The only time I 'felt' Effie was during the musical numbers. I didn't think she was sassy enough, I didn't believe she was head-over-heels for Curtis and I didn't feel much empathy for her as she went on about her life without the Dreams.

The Golden Globe should have gone to Cate (or from what my friends tell me, Rinko).

Next, Eddie Murphy.

I'm sorry, but this is another Golden Globe that was not deserved. Not that Eddie can't act, because he can, but his part wasn't large enough to warrant a statue. And I'm sorry, but every time I watched him in a dramatic scene I couldn't help but picture Gumby. That ridiculous hair made it almost impossible to shake.

And as for the musical numbers featuring him, all I can say is "My girl wants to party all the time, party all the time, party all the time."

I couldn't get past Axel F. Or Mr. Robinson. Or Buckwheat, for that matter.

So what was good about the movie?

Beyonce and the underutilized Danny Glover.

I kid you not. Beyonce went from timid back-up girl to manufactured lead singer to repressed wife to independent woman seamlessly and the moments Mr. Glover was on screen, he lit it up.

It's a shame that this passionate story moved so slowly and got too much press before anyone had seen it.

Let's hope the Academy agrees with me.