'Delta' a mighty river Film a confluence of good acting, subtle direction, believable script By LAWRENCE TOPPMAN Movie Writer P should roducers box-office take who failure a of lesson bemoaned "Beloved" from the "Down in the Delta." That drama shows them how to turn out a serious black film that can turn a profit. Make it inexpensively, with firstrate actors who don't burden the budget, and make it attractive enough that high-salaried performers will take pay cuts to be in it. Make it short say, five minutes under two hours. Make it easy to fol- movie review low and easy to swallow. Most crucially, make it so honest, heartfelt and dryly funny that audiences willingly sit through tough subject matter: drug abuse, autism, Alzheimer's disease, the prospect of a kid going armed to middle school, even a more than passing reference to slavery. Writer Myron Goble, a white graduate of Georgia Tech University, tells a convincing story. The song over the final credits talks about the making of a family quilt, and the analogy is apt: Goble weaves strands in an intricate, appealing pattern but leaves enough loose threads to remind us this isn't a machine-made script from the Hollywood factory. Winston-Salem's Maya Angelou makes her big-screen debut as director. The poet, herself no mean wordsmith, pays Goble the greatest respect a director can: She lets the story unfold simply, without camera tricks or imposition of a personal DOWN IN THE DELTA GRADE: A. STARS: Alfre Woodard, Al Freeman Jr., Mary Alice, Wesley Snipes, Esther Rolle. WRITER: Myron Goble. DIRECTOR: Maya Angelou. RATING: PG-13: Drug use, brief nudity, mild profanity. RUNNING TIME: 115 minutes. style, and she gets the job done. The project has more name clout behind it: Miramax, America's most powerful and wealthy distributor of smaller movies, and Wesley Snipes, who's not only one of five producers but also has a small part as an Atlanta lawyer who grew up in Mississippi. Alfre Woodard gets co-producer credit, so she did more than play the leading role. She's Loretta, single mother of 13- year-old Thomas (Mpho Koaho) and the much younger, autistic Tracey (Kulani Hassen). They live on Chicago's rough South State Street with Loretta's devoted but clear-eyed mother, Rosa Lynn (Mary Alice). Loretta, who can barely do basic math, can't keep a job and floats along on the smoke from joints and fumes from a gin bottle. Thomas has brains, but the easygoing drug dealer on the corner has cast the lure of easy cash. So Rosa Lynn packs the three off for the summer to live with Earl (Al Freeman Jr.), her brother-inlaw in Mississippi. Earl has troubles of his own. Wife Annie (Esther Rolle) has Alzheimer's, though she's cared for by her patient maid, Zenia (Loretta Devine). The chicken plant, which supplies his restaurant with cut-price chicken, may be about to close. And son Will (Snipes) is distant from the family both geographically and emotionally. Most mainstream Hollywood writers would itch to solve every one of these problems, right down to Tracey's autism. Goble doesn't. Some of the characters take giant strides toward happiness, some take baby steps. Some don't move at all. But the hope with which the movie leaves us is genuine. Even minor characters have welldefined lives. Zenia, whose house has been built by Habitat for Humanity, is a single mom who has earned her children's affection with gentle firmness. Though we spend only a few minutes with her, she's no less real than the others. Even an inanimate object, a candelabra named Nathan, takes on a life of its own. Since it dates back 150 years, wise Earl and Rosa Lynn use it to emphasize the movie's message: There's nothing more valuable than staying connected to family and family history. Nathan's own history gets unveiled a little at a time, and the payoff of that subplot has a mule's kick. Freeman's understated, deeplyfelt acting tops a passel of good performances. Koaho is a natural; veterans Woodard, Alice, Rolle and Devine strike just the right notes. Snipes tends to rise or sink to the level of his material, so he's in top form. And ex-Charlottean Defoy Glenn, a protege of Angelou's, has a cameo as a rural preacher. It's high praise to say he fits in with the company he keeps.
