“Whitney Houston: I Wanna Dance With Somebody” (2022) is an authorized biopic of the titular iconic singer. It covers her life from 1983, shortly before she signs a contract with Arista to February 12, 2012, the day of her death. Bohemian Rhapsody’s Anthony McCarten wrote, and Eve’s Bayou and Harriet’s Kasi Lemmons directed. The list of producers includes Clive Davis, the icon’s record producer, and sister-in-law/manager Pat Houston.
“I Wanna Dance” is going to make a ton of money this holiday season. Who does not want to sit quietly for almost two and a half hours listening to Whitney Houston as if you were in a concert without having to pay concert prices or find a resurrection spell without Monkey’s Paw consequences? 95% of the singing is Houston’s, and Houston appeals to everyone regardless of age, gender, race, nationality and possibly religion. If a biopic about Freddie Mercury was a hit, this movie is a gold mine, which explains why McCarten self-financed an option to the icon’s life and got the rights to her music. I respect McCarten’s logistical accomplishment and his vision to recognize a solid investment.
McCarten’s writing in these musical biopics leaves a lot to be desired. How is he the same guy who wrote “Darkest Hour” (2017) or was I snookered with good performances? “I Wanna Dance” is like the CliffsNotes of Houston’s life. In one scene, Whitney (Naomi Ackie) tells Robyn (Black Lightning’s Nafessa Williams), her girlfriend/creative assistant, that she is not going to marry Bobby Brown (Ashton Sanders) then the next scene is the proposal. If the audience was not starved for Whitney, the quality of the narrative would be laughable. It felt as if he wrote an outline of the most memorable moment’s in the singer’s life then jotted off a few lines in between music numbers.
As someone who understood the appeal of “Bohemian Rhapsody” (2018), but had issues with the narrative, McCarten did better this time around by not pathologizing queerness or whitewashing the complexity of Houston’s sexuality. The most wholesome, organic moments are the early days as Robyn and Whitney get to know each other and build a life together before Whitney assents to living and breathing for stardom. If there is a moral, Davis (Stanley Tucci) delivers it by saying, “I want you to be happy too” after he reveals that he has a same sex significant other; thus coming out as bisexual too.
Instead of using queerness to explain a singer’s downfall as McCarten did in “Bohemian Rhapsody,” McCarten’s “I Wanna Dance” is a glamorous Sid Davis cautionary education film about the dangers of drug use, which is fair since Houston publicly struggled with self-medicating and died after suffering a relapse and drowning. It was shallower than “Whitney” (2018), a documentary with a more detailed and textured approach to an otherwise standard biographical documentary, but it depicted her low points with more decorum than some of her public appearances under the influence. The film blames the icon’s downfall as a way of coping with her parents’ marital conflict at home and then modeling their turbulent dynamic in her own relationships either by cheating on Robyn or not spotting the red flags of infidelity that Brown waved. “I Wanna Dance” beats “Whitney” by spelling out the difficulty of the American Music Award performance, and I was thrilled that Rickey Minor (Dave Heard) had a few standout scenes as the midpoint between Sissy and Davis.
It is easy to overlook the lack of substance of “I Wanna Dance” because Lemmons knows how to make a montage to get us to the next hit song. She peppers the film with a riveting mix of archival television and film footage, music video and performance recreations, behind the scenes, period perfect character chewing scenes and awed audience pauses. Former actor Lemmons also knows when to let the actors’ work stand for itself without getting in the way. Ackie and the rest of the cast deliver performances worthy of the legends that they are depicting, but critics are not wrong that she looks more like Brandy than Houston. Lemmons takes her time getting the audience acclimated with the atmosphere and sound before allowing Ackie to face the camera. (Hear me out: what about Janelle Monae.)
Ackie nails the physicality and the attitude, especially Houston’s ability to be defiant then turn on a dime and become compliant The proposal scene descends into chaos as Houston leaves a car and commands cars to stop, never flinching in doubt that she would not be obeyed, as if she was not the one crossing inappropriately in the middle of traffic. Her fury soon diminishes after the initial outburst, and Ackie accomplishes this balancing act without inviting judgment or breaking the suspension of disbelief. In a tense scene that implies domestic abuse without any physical contact, she stands her ground and backs down in an explosive confrontation. The scenes with John Houston (The Wire’s Clarke Peters) are the most heartbreaking as Peters and Ackie show the audience the origins of her instinctual, but short-lived resolve. “I Wanna Dance” has villains: the men in her family.
“I Wanna Dance” shows that once the men in the family remove Houston from the women in her life and work her like a dog, Houston loses her luster. The women in Houston’s life play the role as people who see the person before the image. An almost unrecognizable Tamara Tunie, best known for her role as a medical examiner in the Law & Order franchise, plays Houston’s mother Cissy, an initially ambiguous role as too much of a disciplinarian, but ultimately a steward, instructor and guardian of her daughter’s gifts. Williams’ role as Robyn is challenging because her performance must be devoid of jealousy or a lover trying to keep a partner small. Williams nails it.
The hero of “I Wanna Dance” is Davis. Tucci and Ackie as collaborators and spiritual father and daughter elevate the film way above what it deserves. Lemmons makes the viewers feel like flies on the wall and embraces tropes about how our favorite hits get made. She revisits the montage of the two exchanging opinions in his office, then cutting to the work in the studio with the finished video product. After a few of these sequences, Lemmons, Tucci and Ackie have completely sold the audience that their relationship transcended profit, but became a reciprocated caring relationship between geniuses. Tucci is as credible as ever as the source of unconditional love as he violates his own standards of keeping his artists at arm’s length. (It is not lost on me that Davis does have a financial interest in the star and was a producer but considering how the family dragged themselves in this movie and the documentary, I’ll buy it.)
The production design, costume and wardrobe are immersive for the era and speak volumes while the script uses broad, unnecessary exposition to make the same point. There is the theme of the real Nippy, Houston’s nickname, who wore track suits and jeans, versus the pop princess image of glamour, prints and gowns, but the script belabors the point.
If you love Houston’s music, see it in theaters with the best quality sound system around. If you are not into her music, wait until it becomes available for streaming, but to truly appreciate the scope of the production, big screen is best.