THE TEMPTATIONS (Artisan, VHS $19.98, DVD $19.98, not rated) 1998. Directed by Allan Arkush; starring Terron Brooks, Christian Payton, Leon, Charles Malik Whitfield and D.B. Woodside.
The only living member of the original Motown r&b; quintet the Temptations oversaw this captivating 21/2-hour dramatization of the group’s enormously successful run. The hit songs recorded and performed during the course of more than 30 years, as well as the tumultuous and tragic personal and professional lives of the singers, are covered.
Thus, Otis Williams (who served as co-producer) comes off as the most stable and most noble member of the group, not to mention its driving force and the one who kept the Temptations together through the many hard times and nearly 20 singers who came and went during the frequent defections and split-ups, many of which were the result of drug and alcohol abuse and ego clashes.
Two of the most destructive (and most popular) singers — David Ruffin and Eddie Kendricks — are even shown returning to the original group after a long-running feud, apologizing to Williams and telling him that they should have listened to him all along.
And Williams is shown apologizing to his preteen son for not spending enough time with him and promising to keep him by his side from then on. Of course, we never see him with Williams again, but most viewers will come away remembering that scene of paternal sensitivity.
Williams’ failed marriage is also glossed over, and group manager Berry Gordy (Obba Babatunde) is portrayed as a calm and fatherly guiding force, contrary to some reports of a less-friendly personality.
Even allowing for some seemingly obviously flattering spins on events and situations that favor Williams and, to be fair, others, The Temptations, which premiered on NBC last October as a two-part movie, is an engrossing tale that interweaves eight original recordings, some of the biggest of the dozens of Temptations hits from the 1960s through ’90s, including My Girl, Ain’t Too Proud to Beg and Papa Was a Rolling Stone.
The re-creations of the stage performances and studio recordings of these songs alone is worth the price of a video rental. And at a price of just $19.98, music lovers who are collecting biographical docudramas about modern music groups and singers can easily afford to add this one to their collection — and place it proudly alongside the best of the genre: The Buddy Holly Story, La Bamba and Selena.
Charles Malik Whitfield is terrific as Otis Williams, who was always a backup singer but is seen as the creative founder of the group.
D.B. Woodside is the most sympathetic of the group, as Melvin Franklin, the soft-spoken and dedicated Temptation with the prominent bass voice. After spending years taking pain-killing injections for his arthritis and then recovering from bullet wounds suffered during the robbery of his car, Franklin finally died relatively young.
Leon delivers a powerful performance as the glory-hungry, irresponsible but charismatic lead singer David Ruffin, who tries to get his name added to the group, misses performances due to drugs and alcohol, and steals the thunder from the group whenever he can by showing up when he is no longer a member. As troubled and troubling members Kendricks and Paul Williams, Terron Brooks and Christian Payton are also very strong, if not as memorable.
As an added treat, the real Smokey Robinson, who is played by an actor throughout the film, shows up near the end to sing an original song.
Though this is a familiar story of upheaval and self-destruction among members of a pop group, the story cannot be told too often — that is, as long as it is told this well and personifies a group that had the lasting impact on as many lives as the Temptations did.
DVD TIP: The recently released special edition of The Graduate (Polygram, $29.95) provides a terrific wide-screen print of the classic 1967 movie, a previously recorded documentary on the making of the picture and extended comments by Dustin Hoffman from an interview for the documentary. Among his many anecdotes is his memory of the scene in which he unromantically attaches his hand to the bra-covered breast of Mrs. Robinson (Anne Bancroft) and then turns and bangs his head on the wall. The head-banging, he says, was to cover his laughter, but director Mike Nichols left it in anyway.
