Big Hollywood » Julia Child

Meryl Streep Is Our Finest Actress? Think Again

Steve Dowty — Sun, 18 Dec 2011 15:04:09 +0000

This month will see the opening of Meryl Streep’s next Oscar-nominated performance, as the title character in “The Iron Lady,” Phyllida Lloyd’s “re-imagining” of Dame Margaret Thatcher’s life, career, and meaning. The controversy over the film has centered not on Streep’s performance, but rather on the question of whether or not the film represents a leftist hatchet job; and even before seeing it, there are plenty of indications that might be the case.

For instance, Xan Brooks of the leftist Guardian finds Streep’s performance “astonishing and all but flawless; a masterpiece of mimicry” – apparently because Streep allows Brooks to indulge himself in his memories of Thatcher as cartoon villain:

Streep has the basilisk stare; the tilted, faintly predatory posture. Her delivery, too, is eerily good – a show of demure solicitude, invariably overtaken by steely, wild-eyed stridency.

There seems indeed to be plenty here for a leftist to love; but those who knew Thatcher are less impressed. Baron Tebbit, for instance–who famously was victimized by Brooks’s own paper when they printed the spurious quote, “No-one with a conscience votes Conservative”–has said this of Streep’s portrayal:

However, [Thatcher] was never, in my experience, the half-hysterical, over-emotional, over-acting woman portrayed by Meryl Streep.

Which brings up considerations far more interesting than simply the latest heavy-handed Hollywood attempt to hijack the political narrative. For instance–and we’re delving into Hollywood blasphemy here–is Meryl Streep a good actress? And, if so, by whose standards?

She’s certainly a popular one, at least among the voting members of the Academy. Streep owns the record for most nominations by any actor or actress, with 16. She has carried the statuette home twice, and is the odds-on favorite to do so a third time next year. Indeed, she has already been given the Best Actress Award by the New York Film Critics Circle–last month–for a film that hasn’t even opened yet.

But the public votes with money, and Streep’s films are not notably successful financially. Several of her most recent performances–for instance, her entire 2007 output in “Lions for Lambs,” “Evening,” “Rendition,” and “Dark Matter”–could be fairly described as disappointments. She is not a major box office magnet, and in her most successful film, the musical “Mamma Mia,” it was not the presence of Streep that drew crowds, but the deathless music of Abba.

Her popularity has always been higher among the Hollywood elite than among ordinary moviegoers. She has been called (over and over) America’s greatest living actress; but in an eerie parallel of leftist politics, the praise seems to be mainly an attempt by a self-anointed elite to force the idea upon a reluctant public. It could be the public tends to side with Pauline Kael, who remarked of Streep that she acted only “from the neck up” and said further that Streep “makes a career out of seeming to overcome being miscast.” It’s true that Streep is famously cerebral in her approach to her roles; it’s also true that there is almost never any Meryl there. Where Jimmy Stewart was always Jimmy Stewart, no matter the name of his character, Meryl Streep is never the American girl from New Jersey–she’s Polish, or Irish, or Danish, or Australian. She’s a bitter Bronx nun, or a chilly Manhattan editor, or a drunken bum. She’s Julia Child. Or she’s Margaret Thatcher–but she’s never, even a little bit, Meryl Streep. (This works to her benefit, because it always seems to be someone else who is struggling to be convincing.)

The reason for this is that Streep is perhaps the exemplar of the modern Hollywood theory of acting, which holds that the perfection of the craft lies in the total immersion of the actor in the character. This is “The Method,” which began to take over Hollywood in the late 40s, and really hit its stride when Marlon Brando burst onto the scene, alternately mumbling and screaming, in 1951. Since then actors have competed to become as invisible as possible, hiding behind accents, tics, quirks, foibles, or disabilities, or simply mimicking the voice and mannerisms of a real person.

In fact, flat-out impersonation has become so popular in Hollywood that in the last decade eight Academy Awards for Best Actor and Best Actress have been given for impressions of modern figures–characters for whom there is ample video, audio, and film available to make them familiar not only to the actor but also the audience. Jamie Foxx, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Reese Witherspoon, Forest Whitaker, Helen Mirren, Marion Cotillard, Sean Penn, and Colin Firth all won Oscars for their services in helping Hollywood tell the world the true meanings of the lives of Ray Charles, Truman Capote, June Carter Cash, Idi Amin, Queen Elizabeth II, Edith Piaf, Harvey Milk, and King George VI. All since 2004.

This is unprecedented in the history of the Academy Awards, yet it shouldn’t have been too hard to predict. If “losing oneself in the character” is the sine qua non of acting, what better way to judge an actor’s effectiveness than a note-perfect impersonation? (Besides, it’s simply the Hollywood penchant for remakes manifesting itself among actors rather than producers. Even actors are running out of ideas.)

Streep is indeed a gifted and meticulous mimic, perhaps the best of her generation; but in the end, that makes her a peer of Frank Caliendo, not Bette Davis. What Streep–and the rest of Hollywood–has forgotten, is that submerging oneself in the character is only half the job. The action has to be believable as well. Indeed, the illusion of spontaneity is far more powerful than the illusion of identity. Actors are routinely praised for “bringing a character to life,” but audiences pay to see stories brought to life. When Streep acts, no matter the role, every single word and gesture looks perfectly studied, considered, and prepared, as though she’s trying to give the story a manicure. She hasn’t the knack of convincing the audience that what they’re watching is actually happening. We can’t believe that what we’re seeing is real, and often it’s precisely because the excellence of the mimicry calls attention to the essential falsity of the situation.

By way of contrast, Jimmy Stewart never completely left himself out of his characters (which was okay, because we liked him). He was always, in his voice and mannerisms, Jimmy Stewart, even when he was called George Bailey or Rance Stoddard or Elwood P. Dowd. But Stewart had the ability to make any film seem like a hidden-camera documentary, capturing events as they happened. Even if the characters never rise much beyond the level of Archetype or Everyman (and here’s another interesting question: what’s wrong with that?), it’s the ability to achieve the impression of spontaneous action that made great actors of Stewart and others like Lionel Barrymore:

If you require an example of a modern actor, who never hides his real self behind a thick crust of mannerisms, yet always manages to convince us the action is authentic (and the character, as well), I offer you Robert Duvall as Euliss “Sonny’” Dewey:

On the other hand, if impersonation is the height of acting achievement, why not three Oscars for this?

Maybe the Academy Award is out of reach. But there’s always the New York Film Critics Circle awards. “The Three Stooges” isn’t slated to open until next year, but it’s never too early.

DVD Review: Director Nora Ephron Ruins a Pretty Good ‘Julie & Julia’ With Gratuitous Republican Bashing

John Nolte — Wed, 04 Aug 2010 18:48:33 +0000

You can’t get much more mainstream than “Julie & Julia,” a feel good summer of 2009 release starring Meryl Streep, directed by Nora Ephron and aimed at the kind of broad female audience a $40 million production and August release date is always aimed at. “Julie & Julia” ain’t no edgy indie, ain’t no Oscar bait, and yet throughout the last two-thirds, the screenplay (written by Ephron) salts the proceedings with one gratuitous and divisive shot at Republicans after another. And for no reason that serves the overall story. The insults are so jarring and out-of-place that it’s not far-fetched to assume that Ephron’s conscious goal was to spoil the good time of those unsuspecting moviegoers who made the dual mistake of paying the price of admission and not voting for Obama.

I missed “Julie & Julia” when it was first released … kind of on purpose. Meryl Steep’s acting of late — well, the last 15 years, has become increasingly unbearable to sit though — which is why God invented Redbox. For a buck, I’ll try most anything — except sushi.

Surprisingly, both me and the misses (whose birthday is today — Happy Birthday, Pretty Wife!) were immediately drawn into what started out as a well-structured and charming based-on-a-true-story about two women in two different eras learning to love the art of cooking and coming of age as writers.

Set in post-war France, Streep plays Julia Child. She’s married to an American diplomat (the always superb Stanley Tucci) and finds herself increasingly restless with all the time she has on her hands. In love with the local cuisine, she decides to fill the hours with a French cooking class and the rest as they say is history.

Set in post 9/11 New York (specifically 2002), Amy Adams (channeling Meg Ryan in a big way) is Julie Powell (who wrote the novel upon which the film is based), a frustrated bureaucrat with a loving husband and an unfinished manuscript who decides she needs a project that will help her to learn some self-discipline. That task ends up being cooking her way through all 524 of Julia Child’s recipes over the course of 365 days, and blogging about it at Salon.com.

Throughout, the film cuts back and forth between both stories, connecting the lives of the two women as they share somewhat similar struggles to discover their voice and a place in the world with the help of supportive and patient husbands. If you look too closely, you’ll see how trite the stakes are. But like I said, this is a mainstream film aiming to take you away into a couple hours of escapism. To Ephron’s credit, she doesn’t pretend any of this matters, but for a director working in an industry we’re told constantly is driven only by profit and the desire for big box office, she sure went out of her way to needlessly alienate conservatives.

The gratuitous Republican bashing gets off to a grand start early in the second act during a reunion scene with Julia and her sister. The whole point of this scene is not to move the main story but to let us know that Julia’s father is a “Pasadena Republican” and supporter of the dreaded Senator Joseph McCarthy. This of course is the set up. The punchline occurs later when we meet the old man, are reminded again of his Republicanism, and discover that he is nothing more than a one-dimensional caricature of a stuffy, harumphing, disapproving right winger.

Peppered throughout, as well, are awkward moments of exposition to assure moviegoers that each one of our likable and sympathetic characters are Democrats.

Later, things really go off the rails when an out-of-nowhere subplot develops involving Julia’s husband and his awful persecution at the hands of those awful red-baiters. Because it never goes anywhere and has zero connection with the main story, both the dark and self-important tone and the self-conscious left-wing proselytizing of these shoe-horned scenes stop the film in its tracks.

For anyone who pays attention, it’s obvious that throughout Hollywood there’s a commandment nailed to every studio gate that reads: Thou Shalt Not Make A Movie Set In The 1950s Without A Tired And Cliched Joseph McCarthy Subplot. For Hollywoodists this commandment is a twofer. Not only does it present an opportunity to bash the right but there’s no subject our modern-day filmmakers are more in love with than themselves.

Unfortunately, this isn’t the end of Ephron saving money on Western Union to deliver her gratuitous anti-Republican messages to audiences who were promised a fluffy summertime couple of hours. Just as the story wraps up, Julie is called into her bureaucratic bosses office for phoning in sick when it was obvious to everyone that she wasn’t. After gently admonishing her for not being honest with him, he reminds her that “a Republican would’ve fired you.”

Julie obviously agrees and we’re left to wonder why what we’re told is an industry driven only by money would go so far as to damage the quality of a $40 million product just to childishly insult half the customers.

Streep Trashes Julia Child as Corporate Pawn, Cashes in on Her Legacy

Pam Meister — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 12:03:00 +0000

Celebrated actress Meryl Streep’s latest project “Julie & Julia” is out in theaters. I have not seen the film and am not sure if I will. I did see the trailers, and admit to being tickled by Streep’s uncanny portrayal of Child’s mannerisms and unusual voice. (For Big Hollywood reviews of this film, click here and here.)

Streep is one of those rare thespians who truly morphs into the character she is playing. You forget for a while that you are watching Meryl Streep (as opposed to never forgetting it’s Tom Cruise in “[insert film title here]“), and for that she deserves heaps of praise. But her off-screen silliness is ripe for mocking.

Take, for example, her declaration during a promotional interview for “Julie & Julia” that she was “disappointed” in Child because 20 years ago, Child refused to take part in Streep’s efforts to get organic produce into supermarkets:

“She was very resistant and she brushed us off quite brusquely,” the Oscar-winning actress recalled. “She sent word back that she didn’t have anything to say on the subject, and she really resisted making a connection between the high fat diet of a heavily laden cordon bleu-influenced cuisine and cholesterol levels. I remember being so disappointed that she was in the thrall of something called the American Council for Science and Health, which was a front organisation for agro-businesses and petrochemical businesses.

“They seduced Julia into giving them money, so she was on the other side for a while. Eventually I think she came around, though.”

How dare she!

I guess Streep didn’t read this bit in the New York Times obituary for Child:

Mrs. Child was always a star, never a spokeswoman. She prided herself on not granting endorsements because she was devoted to public television, and she was not afraid to mock corporate contributors to her advertising-free programs. She once demonstrated how to break off a part on a Cuisinart food processor to make it less cumbersome to use even as the manufacturer’s representatives sat in the audience. And she was known to sue to prevent a restaurant from advertising that it was one of her favorites.

And according to this, Child only accepted $50 per show for her series “The French Chef,” donating the rest of her salary to WGBH, the PBS station from where the series originated.

Hmmm…

You know, Streep’s starring role in the alar scare of 1989 caused American apple growers to lose plenty of money, despite evidence that there was nothing to worry about. But never mind; it was all for a good cause – she, like many actors, wanted to ward off the perception that she was ”just an actor” and so decided to throw herself into the environmental movement. Rachel Carson would be proud.

Streep’s disappointment in Child’s unwillingness to go along with her schemes didn’t stop her from cashing in on the cooking doyenne’s name, however. While I don’t know how much she earned for her turn in “Julie & Julia,” I do know that over the past year, she earned $24 million, making her the third highest paid actress in American film.

Also, the studio behind “Julie & Julia” is Sony Pictures. Sony Pictures is a – gasp – corporation. Does that mean Meryl Strep is in the thrall of big business too? Is she some kind of corporate tool or shill? After all, she didn’t earn her cool $24 million starring in indie projects. Some food for thought, no? Bon appetit!

Like I said before, Streep is an amazing actress. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?

Review: ‘Julie and Julia’ A Masterpiece

Doug TenNapel — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 15:24:16 +0000

I don’t recall liking much of Nora Ephron’s work other than “When Harry Met Sally.” In fact, if I knew she made “Julie and Julia,” I probably would have avoided it, since “Sleepless in Seattle” and “You’ve Got Mail” just kind of mash together in my mind. But “Julie and Julia” is more than good: it’s brilliant cinema.

The first thing that grabbed me was the character work. The hero, Julia Powell (her real life blog is here) is a foodie blogger played by Amy Adams. I’m used to watching Amy Adams over my kid’s shoulder in “Enchanted,” which plays in our house on continual loop. I didn’t know Amy knew how to turn down the volume and play a “plain-Jane, yet interesting”… but she’s awesome. This isn’t her usual glowing, perky role where she turns it on like a fire-hose. And she doesn’t turn invisible like when she played a piece of cardboard in “Doubt.”

Back to the characters because “J and J” is a feast of interesting, appealing people I haven’t seen chew up the screen like this in a long time. The real Julia Child is already a great character, but Streep not only personifies this larger than life personality, she pulls off hilarious physical acting. She’s a comedic presence that had our audience laughing with every scene. And she looks huge, just like the real Julia Child. As a 6′8″ fellow, I appreciated the height jokes like when Streep reclines in a bed only to have her feet extend well beyond the mattress.

But Streep shows us sides of Child we probably hadn’t seen before: her sexuality, her competitive spirit, and the mourning for children. How painfully ironic that her name was Child.

I don’t know how Streep does it, but she makes her jowls look bigger. Her hands look big and mannish. Her shoulders rounded so that she looks like she’s playing a man in drag, which is kind of how Child came off to me. A refrigerator in a dress.

Stanley Tucci was in another favorite food movie of mine, “Big Night.” My friends told me to see Big Night then go out for Italian food. My Beloved and I saw “J and J” on date night then went out for dinner. It was one of our better date nights… much better than the time I made her see “Mimic.” But guys, don’t be fooled into thinking this is a chick flick. It’s a people flick. I’d take anybody to see this and if they didn’t like it, they’d need therapy. Yeah, this is the first sure fire Oscar contender I saw this year. At least this is the one I’ll be rooting for when they award it to some movie about a transvestite who marries a 12-year-old boy then murders him because Republican Christians fired him from his job.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Stanley Tucci. He plays the nicest guy in the world. He’s a great, understated character to provide contrast to Streep’s living cartoon. Hats off to Chris Messina as Julie Powell’s long-suffering husband and Jane Lynch who plays Julia Child’s sister.

This is for Nora Ephron: stop wasting your time at Huffington Post and make more movies. As a married man, you’re one of the few who seem to get marriage… even men in marriage. You seem to like men, which is rare among women writers. As someone who writes graphic novels, you’re one of the few who gets what it’s like to long for a significant project to find its way to publisher. You get the narcissism of working on one’s craft while someone else is in the house being neglected for some great piece of art. As someone who knows his way around the kitchen, you get the love of cooking, experimenting with recipes, even shopping for ingredients. Finally, you get Julia Child… including details like her love of sending post cards.

My wife went through a phase when she became an airplane pilot in the ’90s where she studied great women of the last century. She stumbled on the biography of Child Appetite for Life by Noel Riley Fitch. So inspired was my Beloved that she mailed Julia a birthday greeting for her 88th birthday. A few weeks later, she received a hand written post card from Julia herself! We were both so excited and my Beloved went into a cooking phase where I was the benefactor.

Man, this makes me wanna cook something. Maybe I’ll try making beef bourguignon.