n northern Florida in 1948, Ray Charles Robinson (Jamie Foxx) boards a bus to Seattle, where a job awaits. He’s blind and alone, however, which makes the driver quite reluctant to help him aboard – until Ray explains that he lost his sight in Normandy. Just two years earlier, however, he says he’s been blind since the age of seven, which gets him a chance to audition for a piano gig in a country bar – an encounter that finds him donning a pair of sunglasses that would help shape his signature look (spectacles that he leaves on even when in bed with a woman). In Seattle, he finds almost immediate success, becoming a part of the McSon Trio jazz band, alongside slippery Gossie McGee (Terrence Howard) and a stand up bassist, with opportunistic business manager Marlene (Denise Dowse) taking Ray under her wing.

In short time, however, the star pianist realizes just how much Marlene and Gossie are wheeling and dealing and taking a significant cut off the top, preventing Ray from acquiring better opportunities and earning more money. But with a little help from friendly worker Oberon (Warwick Davis), the blind sensation connects with Jack Lauderdale (Robert Wisdom), with his own label, who sets Ray up with a touring group that brings him greater exposure. His social life occasionally suffers when he’s excluded due to his handicap (he’s also haunted by a tragic accident from his youth, which manifests as hallucinations at inopportune times), while he makes some questionable, desperate choices concerning drugs, but he’s nevertheless destined for greatness, surpassing his bandmates and contemporaries to create an unmistakable identity and brand.

“Always remember your promise to me …” Just as Ray is plagued by visions or feelings from his past, so too is the audience with odd editing choices, including unfitting (and outdated) screen wipes (sometimes augmented by graphics), artistic but unnecessary inserts of old footage from the era, abrupt cuts and segues, and a jumbled timeline – full of flashbacks, shifts back and forth in time, and dates that routinely flash onscreen to designate the years passing by. It’s almost as if writer/director Taylor Hackford is trying to spruce up the story with visual verve to distract from the normalcy of this biography (its design curiously parallels many moments from “What’s Love Got to Do with It”). But, as with virtually every adaptation of a prominent figure’s life, the magnetism of the persona in the spotlight tends to dictate the picture’s allure. Ray Charles’ adversities, controversies, personal dramas, civil rights influence, perseverance, and talents are generally enough to fill up an entertaining feature.

Also of considerable impact is the man chosen to embody the star; Foxx’s performance is often sensational, adopting the movements and mannerisms and speech of the legendary musician with stunning accuracy. Intermittently, though, a hint of Foxx peeks through the imitation; he doesn’t always disappear flawlessly into the role. But original and new recordings by Ray Charles himself help to make the mimicry just that much more convincing.

Comprehensively covering his ups and downs, charting his career (and his shocking contracts that reshaped the industry), his infidelities (straying from wife Della Bea [Kerry Washington] to singers Mary Ann Fisher [Aunjanue Ellis] and Margie Hendricks [Regina King]), and his tarnished public image, “Ray” is both educational and inspirational. Its effort to detail so much of his life also works against the pacing, however; the runtime is a touch overwhelming (practically every year receives a scene or two to chronicle noteworthy events, while the last act drags as it sorts through predictable business associate shakeups, governmental predicaments, rehabilitation spells, and familial rifts; even the closing scenes are stifled by poor editing and structuring choices). Still, it’s impossible to deny the power of the music; the genius and legacy of Ray Charles make for thoroughly cinematic material.

– Mike Massie