Respect (2021)

Respect earns its title the moment Jennifer Hudson opens her mouth: it’s not an imitation of Aretha Franklin so much as a full-bodied performance that makes the music feel freshly alive, as if you’re hearing those songs for the first time in a crowded room with the air vibrating. Liesl Tommy directs with a steady, reverent hand, letting the story move from church-born brilliance to hard-won superstardom with the sweep of a classic Hollywood biography but the intimacy of a personal reckoning. The film’s vibe is soulful and celebratory, yet unafraid to sit with the bruises behind the glory—family pressure, exploitation, and the cost of carrying a voice the world feels entitled to. It’s not for viewers who want a purely glossy, feel-good ride, but if you can handle a PG-13 look at the pain alongside the triumph, it’s a stirring tribute powered by great songs and a star performance that insists you listen.

Respect is clearly trying to honor Aretha Franklin with a straightforward, cradle-to-legend biopic that highlights her voice, her resilience, and the gospel roots that shaped her. Jennifer Hudson is the main reason to watch—when the film lets her sing, it finally feels alive—but everything around her often settles for a safe, checklist-style timeline that rushes through major moments without much spark or insight. The pacing can feel episodic and dutiful, with familiar biopic beats that make a once-in-a-generation life story come off surprisingly predictable. Also be aware it includes depictions of sexual assault, domestic abuse, and substance use; if you want a more adventurous, emotionally layered portrait (or you’re not up for heavy subject matter), this may not be your best use of two hours.