David O'ConnellJulie and Julia
October 13th 2009 02:41
‘A Nora Ephron Film.’ Not words that normally have my giddily expectant cinematic heart bounding will joy; more like shrinking with forebodings of mushy, emotional diatribes about love fatefully sprinkled over familiar chick-flick templates. However, clinging to the notion of there being “an exception to every rule", it seems Ms. Ephron has finally produced what will surely be the only watchable film of her career.
Julie and Julia, a cross-generational tale of two women whose love for creating stuff to gratify their palates, flows with an elegant, uninhibited simplicity. It’s strictly mainstream fare in the most glaringly obvious way but it can’t be denied - this is a highly agreeable, often mouth-watering, concoction. There are no surprises, no suspense, no real drama, and yet Ephron’s adherence to an uncomplicated interweaving of the two time strands, without the encumbrance of stylistic embellishments, works to the films advantage, talking directly to its target audience in a language they readily comprehend.
Streep’s joyous inhabitation of Julia Child’s spirit is a welcome return to form after her dour, one-note, utterly alienating work in the otherwise excellent Doubt last year. Here, an irritating, over-the-top imitation seems assured in the opening scenes as Julia arrives in France with husband Paul (Stanley Tucci), but you quickly find yourself infected by this amiable woman’s desire to, firstly, counteract the inertia of her life, before making an influential, painstaking contribution to the art of cookery. Infected with an almost orgasmic appreciation of food, her initial cooking classes form the first stage of a quest to inform Americans who've been thus far excluded from the wonders of French cuisine.
The Julie Powell (Amy Adams) story is just as conventional; she's a bored office-worker striving for meaning to fill the void beyond her work cubicle. Haunted by her failed aspirations as a writer, she makes use of her admiration for Child to transmute her existence into a frenetic 365-day blogging project. This arduous undertaking - successfully ploughing through more than 500 recipes in Child’s gargantuan tome - seems like folly at first, but Powell’s tenacity begins to shape her life. In a less-than-novel subplot, her husband Eric (Chris Messina) becomes slightly disaffected by her single-mindedness before things are set back on track, just as we knew they would.
On a good day I can almost boil an egg, but there’s a magical web of interaction that takes place here; it somehow occurs in direct defiance of the perfunctory, clichéd relationships and even Ephron’s limited, flat directorial style.
Is it even possible to dislike Amy Adams? I’ve tried, but with that perky smile and those sparkling eyes, she has the face of that adorable doll you always wanted to steal from your sister as a curious young boy but ruefully resisted, fearing unholy ramifications. And Streep is really extraordinary; with a meticulousness that borders on scary, she brings this woman to captivating life, allowing us to laugh with her rather than at her, despite the eccentricities.
The two husbands are given virtually no depth; they’re genial, benign supporters or bystanders of their wives’ causes, but despite this the always excellent Tucci manages to leave behind an imprint. Messina adds comic spice in a couple of scenes but it’s a fairly thankless role for him.
Julia and Julia ultimately isn’t about creating probing drama; it’s a lighthearted, fluffy ode to the rich, earthy goodness of food and a strange transformative power taking effect in kitchens separated by half a century. Perhaps limited in scope, it still manages to feel economical at 120 minutes with a breezy appeal that lingers longer than you might expect.
Trailer here.
Julie and Julia, a cross-generational tale of two women whose love for creating stuff to gratify their palates, flows with an elegant, uninhibited simplicity. It’s strictly mainstream fare in the most glaringly obvious way but it can’t be denied - this is a highly agreeable, often mouth-watering, concoction. There are no surprises, no suspense, no real drama, and yet Ephron’s adherence to an uncomplicated interweaving of the two time strands, without the encumbrance of stylistic embellishments, works to the films advantage, talking directly to its target audience in a language they readily comprehend.
Streep’s joyous inhabitation of Julia Child’s spirit is a welcome return to form after her dour, one-note, utterly alienating work in the otherwise excellent Doubt last year. Here, an irritating, over-the-top imitation seems assured in the opening scenes as Julia arrives in France with husband Paul (Stanley Tucci), but you quickly find yourself infected by this amiable woman’s desire to, firstly, counteract the inertia of her life, before making an influential, painstaking contribution to the art of cookery. Infected with an almost orgasmic appreciation of food, her initial cooking classes form the first stage of a quest to inform Americans who've been thus far excluded from the wonders of French cuisine.
Julia Child (Meryl Streep) in her favourite room of the house
The Julie Powell (Amy Adams) story is just as conventional; she's a bored office-worker striving for meaning to fill the void beyond her work cubicle. Haunted by her failed aspirations as a writer, she makes use of her admiration for Child to transmute her existence into a frenetic 365-day blogging project. This arduous undertaking - successfully ploughing through more than 500 recipes in Child’s gargantuan tome - seems like folly at first, but Powell’s tenacity begins to shape her life. In a less-than-novel subplot, her husband Eric (Chris Messina) becomes slightly disaffected by her single-mindedness before things are set back on track, just as we knew they would.
On a good day I can almost boil an egg, but there’s a magical web of interaction that takes place here; it somehow occurs in direct defiance of the perfunctory, clichéd relationships and even Ephron’s limited, flat directorial style.
Is it even possible to dislike Amy Adams? I’ve tried, but with that perky smile and those sparkling eyes, she has the face of that adorable doll you always wanted to steal from your sister as a curious young boy but ruefully resisted, fearing unholy ramifications. And Streep is really extraordinary; with a meticulousness that borders on scary, she brings this woman to captivating life, allowing us to laugh with her rather than at her, despite the eccentricities.
Amy Adams as Julie Powell
The two husbands are given virtually no depth; they’re genial, benign supporters or bystanders of their wives’ causes, but despite this the always excellent Tucci manages to leave behind an imprint. Messina adds comic spice in a couple of scenes but it’s a fairly thankless role for him.
Julia and Julia ultimately isn’t about creating probing drama; it’s a lighthearted, fluffy ode to the rich, earthy goodness of food and a strange transformative power taking effect in kitchens separated by half a century. Perhaps limited in scope, it still manages to feel economical at 120 minutes with a breezy appeal that lingers longer than you might expect.
Julia with husband Paul (Stanley Tucci)
Trailer here.
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Comment by Matt Shea
20/20 Filmsight
Comment by David O'Connell
Screen Fanatic
Comment by Anonymous
Comment by Cinema Autopsy
Good to hear somebody else saying good things about this film. I suspect it has become a bit fashionable to bash it. I have to admit that I expected to really dislike it but was completely won over and ended up loving it. Maybe it helped that I do love French cuisine and I appreciate the passion that goes into it. I also really identified with the Amy Adams character as her passion (and escape) into cooking reminded me of how I feel about cinema. Plus, the Amy Adams character is played by Amy Adams (duh) and she can do no wrong in my books.
Cheers
Thomas
Comment by David O'Connell
Screen Fanatic
I can see how this film might inspire people to drag their old cookbooks off the shelves and get a little experimental. I've seen Child's books and they're massive - quite intimidating I expect even for people who are far superior cooks to me. (I really can barely boil an egg unfortunately!)
Hey Thomas,
Great to hear you liked this as well. I can't understand the derision it's receiving in some quarters. It's light and harmless and thoroughly entertaining all the way.
You make a great point about the parellel of escaping into cinema as well, I feel very much the same way.
I've loved Amy Adams in everything she's done too. Heartbreakingly brilliant in Junebug and just so damn adorable in everything thereafter!
I may even give Enchanted a look one day!!