Beauty in Black Is Winning Audiences, Yet Some See It as a Misstep for Tyler Perry’s Impressive Career

Any production that has Tyler Perry’s name attached to it attracts eyeballs. Translated: it’s guaranteed to be a hit.

Celebrated as Hollywood royalty, Perry has proven his Midas touch as a writer, director and producer. He’s also left an indelible impression as an actor embodying his Mabel “Madea” Simmons alter-ego in his hit comedy movies.

Aside from “Sistas” and “The Oval”, he struck a chord with audiences through poignant features like “Mea Culpa”, “Good Deeds”, “Temptation: Confessions”, “Acrimony”, “Gone Girl”, “A Fall from Grace” or “For Colored Girls”.

Not to sound like a fangirl here, but I’ve enjoyed his offerings – until now.

“Beauty in Black” on Netflix, an eight-part series which has been trending since it debuted on the streaming platform, held so much promise.

But it fell short on several fronts, which I will get into in this review.

The series opens on a heartfelt note with Kimmie (Taylor Polidore Williams), a stripper working for Jules (Charles Malik Whitfield), a former cop who, aside from being a fixer for the influential Bellaire family, runs a sleazy strip club on the side.

Jules helped Kimmie, Rain (Amber Reign Smith) and Angel (Xavier Smalls) avoid prison time for small-time drug trafficking. In return, they are working off their debt as strippers.

However, there is a catch – the payback amount is so ridiculously high that they can’t leave anytime soon.

Despite feeling trapped in a lifestyle that she is tired of, Kimmie can’t seem to catch a break.

When her hopes of getting a coveted scholarship to a prestigious hair school, founded by the powerful Bellaire family, are dashed, she is overwhelmed by disappointment unaware of how her life is about to change where the Bellaires are concerned.

Meanwhile, Jules pimps her out to Roy Bellaire. He is the son of Horace (Ricco Ross) and Olivia (Debbi Morgan), who built the cosmetic empire, which is now facing a massive lawsuit over its cancer-causing hair-relaxing product.

Despite being married to a ruthlessly ambitious Mallory (Crystle Stewart), Roy is known for his womanising and drug habits.

That said, she refuses to divorce him. Aside from maintaining a picture-perfect image to the public, Mallory is all about the moolah as she’s grown accustomed to her life of privilege.

Meanwhile, Roy’s gay brother Charles (Steven G. Norfleet) enjoys a similar debauched lifestyle as him.

Horace’s disdain towards Charles over his sexual orientation is evident, especially in the boardroom. However, the business tycoon has a secret of his own, too.

The premise looks at how a series of unrelated events – from a hit and run to a Brazilian butt lift gone wrong – sees all their lives intertwined.

You know how there are some series that you can’t stop watching? Well, this isn’t one of them.

“Beauty in Black” explores the polarised worlds of the rich and the downtrodden, exposing secrets, deception, greed, family strife, poverty, abuse and unrelenting oppression.

Of course, with everything I’ve just said, this series appears to have the hallmarks of a smash hit.

But here’s where it went pear-shaped.

The viewer is pummelled by the same scenario where Kimmie is concerned. If she isn’t being threatened by Jules, she’s being assaulted and harassed by Body (Tamera “Tee” Kissen) and Delinda (Ursula O. Robinson).

With Kimmie having been thrown out on the streets by her mother when she was a teenager, Rain, who took her under her wing and protected her, is her true “family”.

Polidore Williams plays her role with commendable dexterity. She exudes a defiant resilience in the face of life’s painful blows.

While she has a poker face, she harbours a concealed kindness shown to a select few.

On the flip side, Stewart plays her role as a cut-throat businesswoman and prominent wife with aplomb. Aside from her enviable wardrobe, she lives, breathes and commands authority. A snob, she doesn’t suffer fools easily.

While she’s happy to deal with her husband’s dirty laundry in private, she ensures that they present a united front in public.

Malik Whitfield is a seasoned actor, and his experience is evident in the way he plays his duplicitous role. He is feared by those who work for him and, to those he works for, he straddles a fine line between fixer and traitor.

Unfortunately, the script – along with the character etches – feels like the narrative is going in circles.

After three episodes, it feels like you are watching a drawn-out telenovela. The characters are sans a solid backstory to contextualise their current disposition.

Even in the last episode, when all hell breaks loose, there are more questions than answers.

There is a follow-up series reportedly dropping next year, but I don’t know if I care enough to wait to see how everyone’s journey pans out and whether those that deserve their comeuppance will get it.