Tyler Perry's I Can Do Bad All by Myself

Say what you will about Perry’s movies -- preachy, too earnest, formulaic -- there’s no denying his ability to pick a first-rate cast. Movie after movie, he rescues predictable plots with performances grounded in gravitas. Henson commands the screen, making what’s treacly truthful. And she sings beautifully, too, like she did in the career-making Hustle & Flow. Perry also elicits powerful performances from Blige and Knight; in fact, the playwright/actor/director has a knack for turning female singers into solid, sometimes even spectacular, actresses.

Still, it's hard not to notice the fact that Perry’s films tend to offer the same hopeful-yet-chauvinistic message: That wayward women can be saved not only by God but the love of a good man. Can’t a woman find her way on her own? Speaking of I CAN DO BAD ALL BY MYSELF's said “good man” -- Sandino's devotion to April seems to come out of nowhere, a plot point that neither makes sense nor is believable. April acts heinously in front of him, and yet he declares her warm and loving. Perhaps he’s blinded by his affections. But the audience surely isn’t.