Just saw Julie & Julia this afternoon -- what an absolutely delightful movie it was. It's not just that Streep totally incarnated Julia Child with her flawless acting technique, bringing to life a character you could believe in and be charmed by; it's how all the bits fit together into a lovely, funny, and affecting whole.
I think my favorite parts were when Streep's Julia was interacting with people she loved -- like her beloved husband, Paul, played with wonderfully suave understatement by Stanley Tucci. There's a scene where Paul is watching Julia dash about in the kitchen almost literally cooking up a storm, enacting one of Paul's letters (read in voiceover by Tucci). The letter itself is a marvel -- Paul obviously adored his unrestrained Amazon of a wife exactly as she was; and as the letter describes, Tucci's Paul is obviously getting a total kick out of watching this Amazon cut loose with the food, meanwhile letting fly jaw-dropping exclamations about fresh-from-the-boiling-water cannelloni being "hotter than a stiff cock!" (And I'm bursting into laughter: "Whoa, I had no idea Julia was capable of saying such things! Who knew?")
Another series of scenes I just loved was when Julia's sister (played by Jane Lynch), even a smidge taller than the famously 6'2 Julia and just as vivacious, shows up and they carry on like two Julia-clones. Both let drop by word and deed that they're long-time allies in coping with social misfit status, in an era before it was cool to be female and supermodel tall; both demonstrate that their strategies of choice are self-deprecating humor and joie de vivre. One vignette shows them side by side in a mirror checking their look before a party. "Pretty good ... " Julia says. A beat. And then concludes "But not great!" And then they lean on each other and laugh. That same party shows Julia's sister successfully scoring with a man not only shorter than her, but shorter than the average, just like Julia's husband Paul. Quick cut to the sister's wedding; the two Amazon sisters and their respective hobbit beaus take to the dance floor, first the women reaching outside their couples to clasp affirming hands with each other--and then the men. Let's hear it for the so-called misfits is the tune they're dancing to -- the hell with what other people think, we know we've got it going on.
While there was just no way the modern-life blogger Julie's story could hold a candle to her mentor's larger-than-life tale, I could totally identify with Julie's motive for turning to food and blogging as an outlet. Not unlike her, I've been finding my life in an uproar for some time now, through a combination of decisions that seemed for all the world to be the logical thing to do at the time, circumstances that were totally beyond my ability to predict or control, and just plain dumb-ass stupid moves on my part that make me wish that life had a rewind/erase/re-do button. But at least, in the kitchen, creating with food, I feel like I have some control, that I know what the hell I'm doing, that I'm even doing some good -- and if I do occasionally screw something up, as Julia famously said, you're all alone in there, who's to know? Just learn from your mistake, pick the omelette up, slap it back in the pan, and keep soldiering on fearlessly.
There was one bit in Julie's part of the movie, though, that will live forever: best lobster-in-the-kitchen scene since Annie Hall--complete with soundtrack choice I am totally resisting spoilering for y'all, except to say that it had me giggling throughout that scene like a mad Julia Child.
Link to official trailer on imdb.com
Recent Comments