Push and the film Precious

    The most significant revelation I had watching the film Precious was that as difficult as the book Push was to read, watching the film was worse. I watched the film at home during naptimes before the in-class showing because I suspected that I would have a tough time making it through a movie about such unbearable realities. I was right. As much as I struggled emotionally to get through Sapphire’s novel that battle was nothing compared to the one I fought watching Sapphire’s parents call their child Precious and treat her as anything but.
    What is especially remarkable about my reaction to the film is that its objectionable content was considerably leaner than the book’s. And thank God for that, because those few scenes, a couple of quick clips, and a spattering of suggestive lines was enough to make me want to wake my sleeping babies and hug them tight for all the other little babies who have no one to ward off the evils of this world.
    So how did the film’s leaner content elicit a more emotionally profound response? I can only guess that something about the medium of film was able to overcome the scholarly distance my years of training in literature and writing have taught me to maintain. Written texts to me are literary puzzles and it is my responsibility as an engaged reader (and writer) to solve them. So as difficult as the content of Push was to read I was still able to disengage emotionally enough from it to admire the book as a work of art. The film, on the other hand, really challenged my scholarly objectivity. For instance, Precious’s parents in the book seemed so illogically evil that they remained flat characters, but the film brought them alive in a way the typed text could not and I found myself emotionally engaging with even Precious’s mother. From her daughter’s scrapbook we see that at one time she was a loving and devoted mother and then something changed, and that something was hers and Precious’s abuser. So though Precious’s mother fulfills a common stereotype, by presenting bits and pieces of her story the mother challenges the very stereotype she represents.
    Precious herself is also (obviously) a challenge to the stereotype of the welfare-dependent, fat, black woman. At the end of the film Precious rejects her mother, saying she has “outgrown her” and we watch her leave that sad excuse for a woman behind in that sad excuse of a social support system, walking out smiling under the weight of her two children. So though the content of both the book and the film was depressing, its message was not. It was not despair I felt at the end, but rather hope.
    So, like the book, the film also challenged stereotypes, even the one of the over-sexed, abusive, subhuman black man filled by Precious’s father. In both the film and the book Carl remained a flat, stereotypical character and its impossible to see him as anything but pure evil. We didn’t even see his face in the film. However, the film did something the book did not, namely provide us with a counter, that of the male nurse. Providing this counter is likely one reason why the birth scene in the book was altered for the big screen. Introducing the male nurse the film gives us a loving, nurturing, and supportive, as well as educated and cultured black man — the exact opposite of Carl.
    This is also likely why the birth scene is that of Abdul’s and not Mongo’s. Introducing the male nurse at Abdul’s birth is in keeping with the timeline of the film. It makes sense to present this counter not at the birth of her daughter, but at the birth of her son, which was essentially Precious’s rebirth, as well. In school, learning to read, and expanding her worldview Precious is open to this counter of the educated and loving black man. This gives us hope as Precious faces raising a son as a single mother. She will certainly need all the positive male role models she can find to help her guide her child.
    This scene was also changed in one other significant way. Instead of utilizing the metaphor of push as the book did, in the film the male nurse rather rudely (he’s lucky that laboring woman didn’t smack his face) yelled at Precious to stop screaming, which she promptly ignores. It is significant because it fits another of the book (and the film’s) themes, namely the connection between Precious’s motherhood and her voice. The need to protect, educate, and lovingly raise her son forced Precious take on the responsibility of protecting, educating, and lovingly raising herself. Screaming at the male nurse at the moment she became a mother (truly for the first time as it is this birth that inspired maternal feelings) crystallized the moment Precious found her voice and began to find herself.
    Another way the film differed from the book was the Christmas scenes following Abdul’s birth, but yet again, these alterations support the film’s (and the book’s) focus on challenging stereotypes. Through the Christmas scenes we get a look at how Precious’s holiday life conflicted with others. Most families (we hope) love and celebrate each other during the holidays, but in Precious’s house they try to kill each other. By presenting Ms. Rain’s home life the film continues to challenge stereotypes even further. Ms. Rain’s “alternative lifestyle choices” produce a healthy, happy family life, which is juxtaposed with the debilitating problems of Precious’s more “traditional” family unit.
    I found the film even challenged the stereotype of the heartless education system with its gaping cracks. Precious provided me with a perspective on “democratic” education that Push did not. Mrs. Lichtenstein was certainly a stand in for the U.S. education system, but as much as we can easily criticize her the film did make me realize that as over-burdened and under resourced as socialized education may be in this country, it is still well intentioned. Though Mrs. Lichtenstein certainly failed Precious and is herself unable to help her she does lead her to someone who can. We should remember (and I think both the book and the film want us to) that it was the cold-hearted bureaucrat that led Precious to Ms. Rain (who too is part of the system).
    I had one final thought that might be worth discussing in class, that of the fades to black in Precious. I found them interesting in that they occurred at specific moments in the film and though we saw nothing, we still heard the action of the film for a few moments before the scene switched. Certainly the fades to black signal the passage of time, but their placement and the continued sound seemed significant. However, I did not get the chance to review where each of these fades occurred and what exactly we heard during them. It might be worth investigating how this contributed to the film’s overall message.