Diary Of A Mad Black Woman
You’re beautiful when you’re angry, Kimberly Elise. When you’re being dragged across the floor by your no-good husband, you can really tear up the screen. Unfortunately, when there’s no shrieking or drooling to do, all you can do is stand around looking moony. Just because it’s called Diary of a Mad Black Woman doesn’t mean you can space out when all you need to be is two of the three. Tyler Perry’s screen adaptation of his urban-theater hit is a broad, gospel-tinged melodrama about Helen (Kimberly Elise), the aforementioned black woman, who gets mad when her dastardly lawyer husband (Steve Harris, missing only a Snidely Whiplash moustache to twirl) tosses her on the street for his white mistress. Nowhere to go, she returns to the home of her grandmother Madea (writer/director Tyler Perry, one of three roles he ably performs), a 6-foot-tall, gun-toting, Tootsie-tinged Id who insists she make that no-good man pay, starting with a chain saw to his furniture. But is revenge the answer? Or should she take a deep breath and start again with hunky blue-collar guy Orlando (Shemar Moore, or Malcolm to you Y&R fans), who loves her so much that he’d “go to the store and buy feminine products for you.” Mad Black Woman’s ups and downs are no deeper than those of a Punch and Judy show, but it’s good for two hours of fun-while-it-lasted sensation.