It's easy to overindulge on the tragedy buffet of The Supremes At Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat

As so much media loves to remind us, life is not our hardships but the friends we’ve made along the way. Edward Kelsey Moore’s novel The Supremes At Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat is a charming examination of that maxim, balancing humor and heartbreak so as to reaffirm the value of keeping on. Director Tina Mabry and her co-writer Cee Marcellus do their best to capture the essence of that message in their cinematic adaptation, but the weight of this story’s collective traumas threatens to sacrifice good intention on the altar of fidelity to the source material.

The Supremes are a trio of Black women, so dubbed by Big Earl (Tony Winters), the proprietor of their Indiana community’s diner, in 1969 as the young women come in to request a table that will serve as their sanctuary for the next 30 years. Odette (Kyanna Simone in 1969, Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor in 1999) is the headstrong de facto leader of the group, supportive of her best friends but often at the expense of fully speaking her mind. Clarice (Abigail Achiri in 1969, Uzo Aduba in 1999) is a blossoming musician who feels she must contemplate giving up a career as a pianist to raise a family with her star quarterback boyfriend, Richmond (Xavier Mills in 1969, Russell Hornsby in 1999). Finally, Barbara Jean (Tati Gabrielle in 1969, Sanaa Lathan in 1999) recently orphaned by her alcoholic mother, finds herself torn between the security offered by an older gentleman, Lester (Cleveland Berto in 1969, Vondie Curtis-Hall in 1999), and the wild love she feels for white busboy Chick (Ryan Paynter in 1969, Julian McMahon in 1999) in a time when their relationship makes them vulnerable to racist violence.

Bouncing back and forth between the two time periods allows The Supremes At Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat to weave plenty of twisting reveals into the lives of its protagonists, unveiling details of their personal stories that either inform their friendship or exist outside of their decades-long bond. This story is a smorgasbord of traumatic themes, including child abuse, racism, teen pregnancy, emotional abuse and manipulation, murder, adultery, alcoholism, cancer, and sudden unexpected death. The point of these tragedies, from a narrative standpoint, is to challenge the Supremes’ friendship, to push them as far as possible before mutual love and support pulls them back from the brink of individual obliteration. However, at just over two hours, The Supremes At Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat indulges its tragedies to the point of excess.

If the point is to pull a collection of superb dramatic performances from a talented cast, then The Supremes at least delivers on that front. Ellis-Taylor is the obvious standout, as Odette’s brush with mortality is perhaps the most nuanced of the bunch, but Aduba and Lathan are similarly compelling in their respective struggles, delivering gravitas at some of the lowest points of their characters’ lives. The younger cast is similarly impressive, with special regard to Gabrielle, whose emotional setpieces are moving enough that they threaten to overshadow her older counterpart. Given the subject matter, there’s a clear temptation to give in to pure melodramatic excess, but Mabry’s direction is tastefully grounded while still allowing her performers to push the limits of the big emotions they must convey.

However, for all the events that must be translated from the novel, for all the pieces that must fit together to make this story a coherent work of fiction, something had to give. Well, somethings: pacing and tone. Mabry’s film is a fairly faithful adaptation of Moore’s literal narrative—though lacking the character of Eleanor Roosevelt’s friendly ghost, likely for the better—but the events lack the sardonic observation that comes from their filtration through Odette’s point of view. Some attempt has been made to retain the book’s humor in the character of Big Earl’s widow Minnie (Donna Biscoe), a self-proclaimed clairvoyant determined to prove her predicted imminent demise, but her comic relief scenes are too isolated and spread out, almost jarringly so in relation to the heavy material they bookend.

Instead, The Supremes piles on traumatic event after traumatic event in faithful adherence to the text, despite spiritually blunting their cumulative effect. By the third act, nothing feels shocking anymore, as the rapid-fire revelations become merely numbing, and their respective pay-offs and resolutions feel perfunctory by comparison. The healing power of friendship is the destination, the journey being all the hardships we suffered along the way.

In this sense, The Supremes At Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat is better served as a companion to the novel than a standalone experience. As a dramatic interpretation of Moore’s characters and their hardships, it’s hard to think how a direct translation could much improve upon what Mabry and her cast have put on screen. But without that context, the cavalcade of pain is excessive, perhaps even bordering on farcical, without the breathing room that the novel’s prose provides. Earl’s may give you all you can eat, but eating too much too fast is a recipe for indigestion.

Director: Tina Mabry
Writer: Cee Marcellus, Tina Mabry
Starring: Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, Sanaa Lathan, Uzo Aduba, Mekhi Phifer, Julian McMahon, Vondie Curtis-Hall, Russell Hornsby
Release Date: August 23, 2024 (Hulu)