George Tillman, Jr.'s family dysfunction soaper Soul Food plays a little like an African-American version of Ron Howard's Parenthood. It presents its characters as imperfect and distinct--even ex-con Lem (Mekhi Phifer), put away first for pushing drugs and then for wielding a gun, is allowed to be vulnerable, funny, and gentle. Yet the film can't seem to avoid that basic tendency to summarize and condense personalities down to stock type. It isn't that Lem isn't well written, it's that Lem can be described as "the thug with the heart of gold." Such ease of shorthand (the earth Mother Hubbard, the three sisters as mother, whore, and lawyer) detracts from the kind heart of Soul Food.

Big Momma (Irma P. Hall) is the centre and keystone of an extended family. When she goes down in a diabetic coma, things fall apart. Narrated by young Ahmad (Brandon Hammond, in a performance neither grating nor precious), Soul Food follows a trio sisters (Vivica A. Fox, Nia Long, Vanessa L. Williams), their husbands (Jeffrey Sams, Phifer, Michael Beach), and a prodigal stripper cousin (Gina Ravera) who tempts one of the men in a twist as unsurprising as the other twists.

The plotting isn't really the point of Soul Food; in a very real way, films like this are attempts to create sympathetic characters that are promptly placed in emotionally devastating scenarios. The extent to which Soul Food succeeds and fails is the extent to which it manages to fabricate likable, recognizable human beings. Fail to do so and their inevitable crucibles play with gleeful sadistic anticipation rather than the desired cathartic empathy. More, that catharsis is difficult to achieve if the trials tossed before the protagonists are unfamiliar. In such an analysis, the good and the bad of Soul Food emerges: it is predictable to a fault and in constant danger of over-sentimentality, but there are triumphs in the creation of stock figures, who consistently read as genuine individuals.

Soul Food is warm and good-natured. It respects the underlying truths of its story by depicting interpersonal exchanges sincerely. Though none of the acting (save young Hammond's) stands out as particularly good, Tillman's screenplay and his gift for providing fertile scenarios for improvisation bolster the film whenever it threatens to sink into the maudlin. Though its moments of uplift are entirely a product of its genre, Soul Food manages to be evocative and comic. Considering the preponderance of movies like this trying to take advantage of a hot-button minority (Tortilla Soup) by presenting a button-pushing contrivance, that Soul Food charms as it does speaks volumes.

Fox DVD's 1.85 anamorphic widescreen transfer of Soul Food is clean but a little dicey. Its colours (especially in a flashback sequence) are strangely blue while the bulk of interiors seem warm, verging on indistinct and fuzzy. Still, not a bad mastering all things considered. Outside of a few club scenes and a neo-R&B soundtrack, the film's Dolby Digital 5.1 mix relegates sound mainly to the front channels. It's unremarkable, but crisp and that's all we need ask.

Writer-director Tillman delivers a friendly feature-length commentary in which he reveals, among other things, that his original script ran over 400 pages (! -Ed.) and that many of the characters in Soul Food are composites. Unsurprising as revelations go, but surprisingly frank. Tillman offers a great deal of personal anecdotes that fuelled the writing of several scenes, as well as the fact that much of the film was improvised by a cast he obviously grew to love and respect. His touch as an actor's director evidences itself in the amiability of the piece and his yak-track (peppered as well with a great deal of technique-speak) is an entertaining and informative piece.

A seven-minute featurette is the standard studio fare featuring B-reel footage, "soft" interviews with cast and crew, and clips from the film. The disc is rounded out by trailers for Tillman's Men of Honor, Waiting to Exhale,and Soul Food, two music videos ("I Care About You," "We're Not Making Love No More"), and the standard cast and crew filmographies.-Walter Chaw