The Supremes at Earl's All-You-Can-Eat has "supreme" performers and significantly more flawed screenwriting

Cee Marcellus and Tina Mabry's The Supremes at Earl's All-You-Can-Eat screenplay (which Mabry directs) starts on a high note showing the day protagonists Odette (Kyanna Simone), Clarice (Abigail Achiri), and Barbara Jean (Tati Gabrielle) became friends as teenagers. In the wake of her mother's passing, Odette and a reluctant Clarice visit Jean's house to give her dinner. While inside this social outcast's house, the duo discovers Barbara Jean's father is an abusive drunk. Odette has already described herself as a "bold woman with a big mouth". Naturally, she doesn't sit quietly seeing Barbara Jean's domestic strife.

Immediately, Odette springs into action, strips off her dress (she doesn't want to get blood on her nice outfit), and puts up her dukes. She's going to fight Jean’s father, who is so perplexed at this display that he leaves the room. After this encounter, Clarice’s initial frigidness melts way. She even gladly supports Odette inviting Barbara Jean to join them at Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat diner. In this sequence, it’s so apparent why this trio would become lifelong friends. They’re each so different, yet their unique flourishes complement one another. It’s no wonder Odette’s outspokenness transfixes Barbara Jean, for instance. Similarly, Clarice’s sometimes cautious nature is balanced with Barbara Jean’s heart-on-her-sleeve attitude.

Firmly showing on-screen why a deep connection would grow between this trio gives The Supremes at Earl's All-You-Can-Eat (based on the Edward Kelsey Moore novel of the same name) a terrific emotional bedrock for the rest of its story. The majority of the film's narrative moves forward to 1998. Here, grown-up versions of “The Supremes”, Odette (Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor), Clarice (Uzo Aduba), and Barbara Jean (Sanaa Lathan), struggle with assorted problems.

Clarice's marriage to Richmond (Russell Hornsby) is on the rocks since this man's matrimonial faithfulness is...questionable, at best. Odette is suffering from seemingly menopausal hot flashes that actually speak to a larger health concern. Psychologically tormented Barbara Jean, meanwhile, struggles with alcoholism. Even this profound friendship could crumble under the weight of all this anguish.

A combination of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants with 80s/90s melodramatic weepies like Steel Magnolias and Fried Green Tomatoes, The Supremes at Earl's All-You-Can-Eat is at its best focusing on the bond between its three leads. Both the teenage and middle-aged performers tasked with embodying this trio have great chemistry with one another. Whatever era of their friendship is on-screen, there’s a believably lived-in rapport between these performers. Kara Lindstrom's production design realizes the titular diner as a warm and cozy backdrop for the Supreme's most important conversations. Details like the bright blue booth cushions or dangling lights hovering over the diner counter reinforce Earl's affable homey feel. It’s instantly easy to see why it would become their go-to destination for bonding.

Unfortunately, the script for The Supremes at Earl's All-You-Can-Eat eventually succumbs to a severe case of “tell, don’t show”. Initially, Marcellus and Mabry’s script clearly shows audiences why the three lead characters formed such a close bond or Odette's outspokenness. As the story progresses, though, Odette’s voice-over narration is used too frequently to communicate big plot or character developments.

During a tense third-act sequence, Odette chides Barbara Jean’s alcoholism for becoming such a problem that Jean forgot to pick her up after an important doctor’s appointment. That’s a devastating development. It's also something that shouldn't exist solely in dialogue. Physically watching that disappointing event transpire is vital. Learning about it through a throwaway line doesn’t lend tangible gravity to either Odette’s frustrations or Barbara Jean’s problems.

Similarly irksome is the bombardment of endless torment that the lead characters experience, especially Barbara Jean. These characters enduring emotional struggles isn't a problem innately. An early discovery of a man who passed away while kneeling by his bedside to pray firmly establishes The Supremes at Earl's All-You-Can-Eat as a motion picture working in grand emotional brushstrokes. It’s inevitable that the titular Supremes would face ongoing turmoil. Marcellus and Mabry's script instead fumbles in cramming too many psychological setbacks together in quick succession. The Supremes at Earl's All-You-Can-Eat barrels through hate crimes, devastating familial losses, and grave medical diagnoses like bullets from a machine gun. It's a quantity-over-quality situation that leaves the lead characters stranded.

At times, The Supremes at Earl's All-You-Can-Eat reminded me of Michael Showalter's Spoiler Alert, another modern melodrama that kept thinking endless emotional chaos automatically guaranteed a movie gravitas. That approach simply left that Jim Parson star vehicle feeling narratively crowded and a similar shortcoming befalls this Tina Mabry directorial effort. The flaws in the script's breathless delivery of these developments are compounded by lifeless visual choices from Mabry and cinematographer Sean McElwee. Classic melodrama films complimented grandiose displays of vulnerability with equally pronounced visual flourishes (see: the works of Douglas Sirk or certain Todd Haynes movies). The Supremes at Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat's stiff camerawork and editing undercut storytelling that needs all the help it can get.

A saving grace for the entire production is its lead performances. Ellis-Taylor, Aduba, and Lathan are quite compelling in The Supremes. Lathan especially delivers more nuance to her role compared to the script’s writing of Barbara Jean. Her reserved body language and soft-spoken line deliveries tug at the heartstrings while still exuding tangible humanity. Lathan isn’t portraying Barbara Jean as just a ragdoll tossed around by the waves of fate. There’s a beating heart to this woman that her performer always maintains. Aduba, meanwhile, commands every ounce of your attention whenever she’s on-screen. As for leading lady Ellis-Taylor, she delivers commendable work even while delivering overwrought bits of narration like her observation that life “is like a painting” or commenting that pianist Clarice was “tone-deaf with” her husband.

Watching these three deeply talented actors (not to mention the trio of gifted younger performers inhabiting their characters in flashbacks) sharing a lived-in rapport is so engaging. Low-key sequences focused just on The Supremes, like Barbara Jean giving Odette an at-home haircut, are deeply lovely thanks to the terrific performances and warm cinematography. The Supremes at Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat, unfortunately, struggles realizing its full potential as a drama about surviving adversity. Maybe a few more sequences chronicling Odette, Clarice, and Barbara Jean just shooting the breeze at their favorite booth at Earl’s would’ve bolstered a movie that’s at its weakest executing momentous “twists” and “revelations”.