Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Julie & Julia (2009)


There's an old film critics' saying that it's very difficult to make an interesting movie about a writer. Think about that one for a second. How cinematically dramatic is the act of writing? It stands to reason, then, that Nora Ephron's JULIE & JULIA is doubly cursed, as it features the real-life stories of not one but two writers. And, for me, this cautionary warning about a film's subject matter is reinforced here.

I'll skip all of the discussion about how wonderful Meryl Streep is here as the famous chef Julia Child. Of course she's wonderful. Some have said that she alone is reason enough to see JULIE & JULIA, and while I could support that claim, that can be said of a half-dozen other Meryl Streep films or more. Not to belittle her sublime brilliance as an actress, but I have a theory that the most honored acting performances often come from mediocre films because the fantastic work of the actor sticks out like a sore thumb. Streep has been been in only a small handful of true cinematic masterpieces or anything that comes close. So naturally, her presence is a redeeming value in any film.

Here, as Child, Streep is having as much fun as she seems to have had in recent work like "Mamma Mia!," flipping that signature Child sing-song vocal pattern and towering over Stanley Tucci as Julia's loving but slightly enigmatic husband, Paul. Yes, give her an Oscar nomination. Maybe even give her the trophy; how is it that our greatest actress only possesses two statues?

Amy Adams, one of my current favorite actresses (herself already nominated twice for Oscars so early in her career), comes off less successfully as Juile Powell, a melancholy New York City woman with a puppy dog husband who will put up with just about anything, a lousy job holding the families of 9/11 victims looking for insurance payouts at bay, and a desire to make her life matter, if only she could figure out how. Her odd decision: to cook her way through Julie Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" in a year. Oh, and she'll blog about it. In the process, Adams' character comes off as snotty and hard to live with. It's amazing that the always likeable Adams is almost unlikeable here.

What's interesting about all of this is that Ephron's screenplay actually gives the Powell half of the story the much more dramatically interesting arc. Nevermind what the other critics have said, that the Julia Child portion is the "better" portion and that Ephron could have done away with the Julie Powell portion. I read those reviews before I saw the film. And I disagree. I think people are so blindsided by Meryl's transcending presence that they are forgetting that her entire half of the movie, from a dramatic perspective, involves little more than Child's collaboration with two other women on that cookbook. The film does not cover any other aspects of her personal life. True, her marriage is surprisingly rich with love and warmth -- surprising because Child's TV personality was always slightly formal and hoity-toity. But Ephron botches many dramatic opportunities, such as her husband's brush with McCarthyism, in favor of the more banal pursuit of will-she-or-won't-she-get-her-cookbook-finished. Which, of course, she does.

Powell's life, by contrast, is structured around more inherent conflict, though Ephron remains in the shallow end of the pool for her story as well. Julie's job, by all accounts, is horrible. Her decision to find purpose by becoming the Carrie Bradshaw of cooking by recreating all of Child's recipies and blogging about it is quirky but interesting. Nevermind the fact that we are never asked to believe how she and her husband can afford the groceries. The charm, I guess, is seeing her put together these formal recipies in the dive kitchen of a small apartment. But her obsession causes her to be destructive in her relationships, and she becomes so unlikeable that Ephron throws in one lunch scene where Powell is seated with three friends who are exponentially less likeable and more self-centered so that the audience can forgive Powell for her own selfishness.

Neither storyline does enough to develop the husband characters. One comes off as inexplicably loving and sweet and the other is, by all accounts, a doormat. When Julie's husband leaves her briefly (and suddenly, in terms of the film's narrative development), the reconcilliation of the marriage that occurs a few scenes later with him asking her "what's for dinner?" Shame on you, Nora Ephron!

I wish we could have known more about Julie Child: how she got to where she was and what happened after her book was finally published. Because just waiting for her to get a book deal was, frankly, boring. And the film's one true moment of cinematic tension, which comes when the stories of the two women intersect via a phone call detailing Child's reaction to Powell's blog experiment, is glossed over in that Ephron-y, "Sleepless in Seattle" sort of way. It's a cop out and is resolved in a way that makes me appreciate Powell even less.

In the end, JULIE & JULIA attempts to entertain the audience with duelling stories about one woman who is writing a book in the mid 20th Century with pen, paper and a typewriter, and another woman who is writing a book (well, the blog becomes one) in the early 21st Century at a computer screen. And if that sounds interesting to you, you'll love JULIE & JULIA. Because that's all you'll get.

2.0 out of 4

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