Hi, we’ve come to set the women’s movement back. This won’t take long. You know, most senior artists with decades-long portfolios will have regrets. You make dozens of films, a few will not be your best work. This is natural. Sure, you paid your dues while making it and maybe you took an extra paycheck after an Oscar. It happens. What is unnatural is being almost seventy and able to say, “yeah, that one from last Friday. That was a mistake.” Multitalented film Ricki and the Flash is both possibly Meryl Streep’s worst performance ever and a general tribute to making sure women are constantly seen as fragile and indulged victims rather strong and independent humans.
Don’t worry, Ricki and the Flash isn’t exactly kind to men, either.
Ancient, never-was rocker Ricki (Streep) is beckoned from her L.A. hovel to parent her estranged and potentially suicidal daughter, Julie (Mamie Gummer). Following a split with her husband, Julie is currently in Indiana with her aggressively mediocre father (Kevin Kline – a sad reminder that the first Streep/Kline film was the brilliant Sophie’s Choice). Decades ago, Ricki chose the dive bar circuit to parenting and wants us to forgive her for it, ironically pointing out that a man is allowed such life choices while a woman isn’t. Um … hate to break this, but men who make similar choices are also castigated — often and without mercy. Name me the man who is praised for putting a hobby ahead of a child. Go ahead. Name one.
There isn’t much to Ricki and the Flash. Recognizing that Meryl can sing, the movie gave us a ton of rock reruns in lieu of plot. Nary a one of these “gems” will make your playlist. Most of the songs are just meh; despite the inclusion of some serious professionals, The Flash (Ricki’s band) is not as good as the kids’ trio in Dope. Two covers were almost criminal in execution: Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance” and Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs’ “Wooly Bully.” Wish I had a brain wipe for that dreck. The marriage separation is the film’s lone compelling event – yet it didn’t happen in the context of the film timeline and, more importantly, it didn’t happen to Ricki. We’re just here to observe how she reacts. And, boy, does she react. Never missing a moment, regardless of setting, to deliver an emotional overreaction, ill-considered political opinion, mild racism, homophobia or simply a general misunderstanding of societal sexual roles, Ricki often displays a demeanor as loud as her outfit.
Speaking of that outfit, Ricki consistently presents herself as a fourteen-year-old girl allowed to visit the mall for the first time alone. On an actual junior high student, this free-flowing nightmare of braids, eye-shadow and leather might appear cute if naïve, on the sixty-six year old Streep, it looks positively Medusan. It also makes it impossible to take her seriously and Ms. Streep compensates by overacting at every turn. I’m not kidding. Meryl Streep,
arguably the greatest artist in modern history, a performer who at present count has been nominated for nineteen Oscars, a talent who in her relative youth forced Dustin Hoffman to smash a full wine glass on screen to retake control of a scene – in a performance he won an Oscar for, btw – yes, that Meryl Streep in Ricki and the Flash lost an acting duel to Rick Springfield. Well I can honestly say I won’t ever be making that statement again.
I feel sad here. Diablo Cody is so sharp. I love Juno backwards and forwards. You can still see the “Flash” of genius, like at the wedding of Ricki’s son when she’s asked “how did you meet the groom?” “Caesarian section.” That’s hilarious. But for most of Ricki and the Flash, Diablo gave in to the dark side. There’s a scene in the middle of the film – and I’m guessing the reason why it was made – in which Julie waits outside a bar and grill while her parents take turns barring and grilling the man who left her. Julie herself waits outside with the look of a small child whose lost doll is being returned. There’s no mistaking that this is what parenting is to Jonathan Demme, Diablo Cody and most of the cast – your parents fighting your battles for you.
Look, I know some might find this review on the sexist side and I don’t blame you for said conclusion, but just think about it – suppose Julie is not Julie, but Jules, a grown man whose wife left him for another. How would you react to a scene in which he looks on like a lost puppy waiting outside a restaurant while his parents go and tell his ex-wife exactly what he thinks of her? What would you think of Jules? Why should we think anything more of Julie?
This is the same director who made Silence of the Lambs. Really? Yes. Oh, Mr. Demme, how far you’ve fallen in your view of feminism.
FrogBlog notes: Eerie doesn’t begin to describe seeing Rick Springfield do a Bruce Springsteen number. The Flash covers “My Love Will Not Let You Down” late in the film in a vain attempt to substitute lyrics for genuine support.
♪Oscar is a friend
Yeah I know he’s been a good friend of mine
But lately there’s a screenplay I done shouldda declined
I’ve gone and made a bomb and I hope he don’t mind
Cause I’m acting with my throat
And I’m acting with my hair, you just know it
And I’m hammin’ like a noob exit stage right
You know
I wish I was in Sophie’s Choice
I wish I was in Sophie’s Choice
Why can’t I find a film like that? ♫
Rated PG-13, 101 Minutes
D: Jonathan Demme
W: Diablo Cody
Genre: Legendary career set back
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Immature women (look, I’m not saying if you like this you’re immature. All I’m saying is it helps … a lot.)
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Their spouses
♪ Parody inspired by “Jessie’s Girl”
