I loved Meryl Streep as Julia Child, sobbed for her as Sophie, feared her as the Prada-wearing devil and admired her as the Iron Lady. But, hard as I tried, I just couldn’t wrap my head around her as a past-her-prime rocker in the new movie, Ricki and the Flash.
Maybe it was her Obama-bashing and the giant American flag tattoo on her back that just didn’t ring true. Or her singing voice, for which – I’m sorry – she would never have become famous. Or the fact that she makes out with Rick Springfield.
I went in to see this movie, wanting to love it. I mean, what a great midlife story! And, not only does it star the legendary Streep, her daughter, Mamie Gummer, Kevin Kline and the cutie pie who sang “Jessie’s Girl,” but it’s also written by Diablo Cody and directed by Jonathan Demme. It should be amazing.
But it’s not.
Streep’s Ricki, a.k.a. Linda Brummel, is a rock and roll mama who long ago abandoned her family to pursue her dreams of stardom. Unfortunately, those dreams never really came true and she’s forced to supplement her band’s nightly gigs at a dumpy local bar in small town California with a day job as a grocery store cashier.
When her ex-husband (Kline) calls her to come home to Indiana because their grown daughter (Gummer) is experiencing a breakdown – and his second wife, (Audra McDonald) who’s been the real mother to Ricki’s three children, is out of town – she warily gets on a plane and attempts to do damage control in her own inimitable (read: selfish) way.
Gummer is fantastic in a role that mirrors her real-life connection to Streep. Her expressions are priceless. In fact – and this may sound sacrilege – she often steals the scenes she’s in with her mother.
Real rocker Rick Springfield also solidly holds his own against Streep, showing surprising movie star power as the bandmate who’s in love with her. Kline is always good, and there’s something special about seeing the pair reunited that made me wish they’d make another movie together – because this one doesn’t count.
And then there’s Streep. Admittedly, it’s riveting to watch her, whether she’s talking smack to her customers or quietly strumming a tune on her guitar. I couldn’t take my eyes off her from the first moment she appeared onscreen, belting out Tom Petty’s “American Girl,” but, unfortunately, that’s only because I couldn’t reconcile the actress with the character. The disconnect was just too great.
I was frustrated that none of the characters were fully developed and that Cody and Demme simply stayed on the surface of the story – which had such potential – rather than digging in deep.
At one point, Ricki complains that Mick Jagger never had to feel guilty about being an absent parent to his seven children. Instead, he was celebrated.
Now, that’s a fascinating observation. And, mirroring the theme of the story, it offers a glimpse of what the movie itself could have been.
Yeah, I thought it was “lite” and not worthy of the great Streep. But, like DeNiro, she seems to be taking those kind of parts. I like Gummer. She’s not conventionally pretty but she is riveting on the screen. She’s good in everything she does.