There have been some uncanny biopics of music celebrities.

To Gary Busey's Buddy Holly, Lou Diamond Phillip's Richie Valens, Sissy Spacek's Loretta Lynn, Dennis Quaid's Jerry Lee Lewis and Diana Ross's soulful Billie Holiday, add Jamie Foxx's astonishing Ray Charles in director Taylor Hackford's Ray.

What makes Foxx's performance so remarkable is that he doesn't just get into the skin of this music icon, but into the man's very soul.

Foxx looks like Charles and has captured the man's trademark tilted head, dynamic grin and swaying movements.

More importantly, Foxx helps us understand why Ray Charles' music has such universal and lasting appeal.

Charles poured his heart and soul into his music and both were as tortured as they were vibrant.

To his immense credit, Foxx never begs for us to worship or love Charles. He shows that the man was often self-centred, manipulative and greedy.

If ever a performance deserves to be called inspired, this is it.

On the surface, Charles' life plays like a male version of Billie Holiday, a musical genius who fell victim to a heroine addiction.

Like Holiday, Charles was as sexual as his music is sensual, which Foxx makes abundantly clear.

He was a passionate lover, but not a faithful one, which brought such confusion, grief and sadness to his wife Della Bea, who is portrayed with stunning conviction by Kerry Washington.

As certain as Foxx is to be nominated for a best actor Oscar, Washington should be recognized with a similar nomination for her supporting performance.

Their scenes together are electric.

Regina King is equally memorable as Margie Hendricks, the backup singer whose life and career Charles destroyed through his addiction and womanizing.

If there is a flaw in Ray, it's Hackford's script, which has to deal with so much drama, joy, pathos and laughter.

There's more story and character in Charles's life than even a miniseries could do justice.

He was born into poverty, watched his brother die and went blind from a misguided medical procedure to treat childhood glaucoma.

He had to deal with racism, as well as the preconception that a blind man would necessarily be less of a musician.

He triumphed over it all, but Hackford is determined to remind his audience of these tragedies as often as possible.

The repetition begins to chip away at the momentum of the film.

The movie soars each time Hackford lets the music and the concerts take over, when it seems Foxx is channelling Charles, rather than merely lip-synching him.

Ray has an exceptional soundtrack of the singer's biggest hits, which Hackford tries to show were each inspired by an event in the man's life.

Hackford's movie is never as good as Foxx's performance but it is still an exuberant ode to an immortal genius.

(This film is rated 14-A)

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