An “all-you-can-eat” restaurant is supposed to be the epitome of comfort, a rest stop where you can get some strength before diving back into the hustle and bustle of modern life. A good restaurant knows its strengths and cultivates them, but some inflate themselves with too many ideas. Tina Mabry’s new film The Supremes at Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat plays like a Golden Corral that begins to become tarnished by an overloaded selection of narrative possibilities, none of which are fully fleshed out.
Related to Based on Edward Kelsey Moore’s 2013 novel, the film follows three friends Odette (Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor), Clarice (Uzo Aduba) and Barbara Jean (Sanaa Lathan) from the early 1950s to the late 1990s as they share their lives together. Big Earl (Tony Winters), the personable owner of the titular all-you-can-eat restaurant, nicknamed them “The Supremes,” and the girls meet at their regular table to gossip, find love, grieve loss, and support one another.
With three lives and 40 years to fill, Mabry and co-writer Cee Marcellus throw every predictable plot point into the mix and hope for the best. There’s abuse, alcoholism, adultery and cancer, along with racial violence and interracial love affairs. The problem is that the film lacks the lyrical symmetry that holds it all together. It all comes across as a loose, melodramatic meatloaf. Heightened emotional climaxes come seemingly out of nowhere, with no development or resolution. It’s as if the events are meant to add weight to the plot simply because they happen. But the plot doesn’t add spice on its own. It has to be earned and enriched by spending time grappling with the repercussions. Things happen too quickly and don’t seem to matter. The motifs of friendship, life/death and destiny/fate aren’t rendered with enough symbolism or meaning to elicit the genuine emotional response a story like this one wants to achieve. Instead, Mabry and Marcellus give the film an easily digestible gloss that ensures the story remains superficial.
It leaves a bitter aftertaste to see experienced actresses smothered in kitsch. You can see their talents being neglected, and these women deserve more. They’re not given enough support by a script that tries to cram weighty prose into a shallow trajectory. For all the dripping emotional dialogue, Mabry and Marcellus give them barely any time to let it sink in before moving on to the next poignant moment. We’re not followed by any tangible arc. The film is mostly made up of moments, tidbits of something juicy, but not enough to satisfy. Watching these actresses at work, you can tell how much they do with so little. Someone get these women a Broadway show! They have the chemistry and chops to handle complex material individually and as an ensemble.
Ellis-Taylor is a perfect match for Odette’s witchy, riotous personality. Ellis-Taylor can be very wise for her age, but also sharp and caustic when the matter-of-factness calls for it. She is the ethereal counterpart to Aduba’s headstrong and grounded portrayal of Clarice. A deeply rooted musician, Clarice has both feet firmly on the ground, even stubborn at times. When she rebukes an opponent, we see how deep her fortitude goes, even when her confidence is shaken. In the middle of these two is Sanaa Lathan’s mild-mannered Barbara Jean. She is the most watered-down character. Her moments aren’t as cathartic as Clarice’s, and she barely achieves the fortitude Odette has from the start. Lathan does what she can to make Barbara Jean feel present in her own life, but most things happen to her and she gets the least amount of screen time to develop.
There are hints of something more appetizing throughout the film. The women who play the younger versions of our leads are a joy to watch. They’ve studied their counterparts and feel a responsibility to make their characters’ aging seem logical. The thoroughness with which Kyanna Simone, Abigail Achiri and Tati Gabrielle embody their characters helps Mabry cheat, building a sense of connection over time that can’t be found on paper. Big Earl’s wife, the boisterous Miss Minnie (Donna Biscoe), provides the most delicious moments in the film. Biscoe, thankfully, plays the back row. Miss Minnie’s outbursts are a constant touchstone we return to as time goes on. She’s the film’s true sense of permanence, always there with fresh drama and outside commentary on how times have changed. As a result, her journey is more clearly defined than that of the main characters.
Like other Current offers for older actresses, The Supremes at Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat feels bland in its cliches and does not deliver a result worthy of its ingredients. It is a daily dish, a dish made up of various tropes that have had their best days and are treated like a bargain. Despite the exceptional talent and the promising story of friendship in need, The Supremes at Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat seems destined to get lost in Hulu’s own overextended menu of lukewarm options, overlooked in favor of more nutritious and tasty fare.
Director: Tina Mabry
Writer: Cee Marcellus, Tina Mabry
With: Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, Sanaa Lathan, Uzo Aduba, Mekhi Phifer, Julian McMahon, Vondie Curtis-Hall, Russell Hornsby
Release date: August 23, 2024 (Hulu)
BL Panther is a culture writer, scholar, and Northern Illinois fish. B! writes for outlets such as Honey Literary Journal and The Spool. A master of the hermit, he enjoys reading, being indoors, taking afternoon naps, and just doing nothing.
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