Eleven-year-old Akeelah Anderson wants to be like other girls, but blending into anonymity isn’t easy when you’re brilliant. She shrinks when she makes perfect grades and is mortified when labeled a “brainiac.” Despite all her efforts, Akeelah is unable to fit in. The girl can’t help it; she’s smart.
Her chief talent is a gift for words, particularly when it comes to spelling. Akeelah elevates spelling to performance art, spitting out each letter, keeping time by slapping her hand against hip, an action of rhythm and fluidity that is part sport, part rap.
Akeelah and the Bee is hardly the first movie about the triumph of the human spiri – hell, it’s not even the first movie to do it through spelling bees (the terrific 2002 documentary Spellbound focused on the ultra-competitive universe of the bee). But like its fictional protagonist, Akeelah refuses to recede into the background, instead presenting a charming and poignant story that mostly earns its sentimentality.
When a beleaguered inner-city middle school kicks off its first-ever spelling bee, the school principal (Curtis Armstrong) recruits Akeelah (Keke Palmer) to enter the contest. She grudgingly obliges, but soon enough is swept up in hopes of actually making it to the nationals in Washington, D.C. The principal even sets up Akeelah with her own private coach, the no-nonsense college professor Dr. Larabee (Laurence Fishburne).
A bona fide hero’s journey of which Joseph Campbell undoubtedly would have approved, Akeelah must tackle some big hurdles to realize her dream. The most formidable obstacle: The skepticism of her mother (Angela Bassett), an overworked widow straining to raise three kids.
Writer-director Doug Atchison gets so much right here, it is jarring when he stumbles. A pat contrivance bonds Larabee with Akeelah, whose father died from a stray gunshot when the girl was 6. The film is an obvious labor of love – Atchison was inspired to write the script after tutoring children in downtown L.A. – but he occasionally tugs a bit too hard on those heartstrings. When Akeelah’s quest to the nationals becomes a matter of community pride, the director opts for a montage sugary enough to cause diabetes.
But Atchison’s genuine affection for these characters ultimately outweighs the sappiness. Dr. Larabee instructs his young pupil to read a celebrated quote by Marianne Williamson: “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. … We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?’ Actually, who are you not to be?” It is a lesson that Akeelah and the movie take seriously.
The acting is superb. Fishburne and Bassett are always excellent, but, in the end, Akeelah and the Bee belongs to Palmer (most recently in Nope), who remarkably manages to be endearing without cloying.
Cutting to the Chase with Phil Bacharach 