JULIE & JULIA review: Serving is luke-warm and honest
JULIE & JULIA review: Serving is luke-warm and honest
Dec 07
I kicked back to watch Julie & Julia with intrigue. My belly reveals a love for food and hours spent online where I’ve always enjoyed writing (or ‘blogging’), so I figured a film that incorporates both of these elements might strike a chord for me. I was half right. With the romance element non-existent and the premise being reasonably unique, director Nora Ephron (Sleepless in Seattle, You’ve Got Mail) had a chance to bring something honest and heart-felt to the screen without relying (entirely) on a boy-girl romance. And she has achieved that.
Instead of a traditional movie romance we’re treated to a long-distance, era-defying relationship between world-renowned American French chef/author Julia Child and modern-era blogger (and subsequent author) Julia Powell. Based on the true story of Julia endeavouring to cook, over the course of a year, every one of Julia Child’s recipes from her most famous French cook book and blog about each and every one, each and every day.
The parallels between the two lives that have never met are well preserved in the film (as were originally blogged by Julie in 2003). The similarities in cultural struggles, family indifference and technical struggles in the kitchen are vastly different between Julie and Julia, yet I found they subtly echo each other in a way that wasn’t deliberate enough to have me rolling my eyes at any predictability.
However, the progression of the plot and eventual conclusion is predictable at almost every turn.
There seems to be a trend in motion pictures lately that insists films be lengthier to guarantee the audience gets ‘bang for their buck’. This extra length might suit the action-adventure genre perfectly, where beats can be tempered up with gun fights, car chases and explosions– but I don’t find the extra length very appealing in a flat-out drama such as this. What could have been (and perhaps should have been) wrapped up in 90-ish minutes in Julie & Julie actually takes a hefty 123 minutes to reach the credits. It was once they rolled that I realised much of the fat could have been peeled back to provide a more concise film that might have felt more productive and entertaining. As it stands, Julie & Julia spends an extra half hour showing you what you already know. We know Julia gets a publishing deal, yet we watch her struggle with it for over half an hour. It’s padding to a journey that unfortunately doesn’t pay off and only aids that the film is dragging on at times.
Amy Adams is predictably cosy and bubbly as Julie Powell, bouncing around her small apartment kitchen, talking to herself and being either sincerely sentimental or feverishly flippant toward her new husband (Chris Messina). She delivers everything she needs to without bringing anything outside of her comfort zone to the screen. That’s not to say her performance doesn’t aid the character, however. And there are moments for her dynamics to shine; giving up on a meal and collapsing in a child-like tantrum on the kitchen floor brought a chance for Adams to include some layers that weren’t previously evident in her character– which is precisely why it doesn’t work as it might have been intended. It’s okay, though, as the film has Meryl Streep to fall back on.
I admire Meryl Streep as an actress and her performance as Julia Child is more of her best. There’s something to find within her character in every scene, every frame. She’s always engaging and I find watching her craft her work incredibly intriguing. If there’s one thing that took away from her performance at times it was the voice she used in an effort to match that Julia Child. She speaks in a high-pitched, looping and distracting voice throughout the film, and while Julia Child might have presented herself this way on television, some interviews indicate Meryl might have exaggerated a little much. I found it very distracting. Clearly ‘putting on’ a character voice disguises the acting performance that is actually occurring. I’m thinking of Christian Bale as Batman in The Dark Knight as a very contrasting example. But the same principle applies.
Interestingly, I found myself smirking with Julia’s husband, Paul (played brilliantly by Stanley Tucci) during his scenes of listening to Julia talk on and on about her cooking, the labours of attempting at writing a cook-book and her family issues, all in that same high, lofty voice. He nods along and politely contributes with straight-to-the-fact replies that are honest and full of tolerance. I could tell he loves his wife and has learned to pace himself as a listener. One would need to in his case, and I can definitely relate– both as a married man and a audience member for this film.
Nora Ephron has delivered a film that doesn’t try to be anything more than it needs and comfortably does what it sets out to achieve, albeit at a pace that probably isn’t desirable. It is honest in that it doesn’t try to upper-cut the audience with self-indulgent romantics or tugging at any heart strings. It just tells it like it was and lets the audience take from it what they will, and for that it should at least have respect. Ultimately, though, it’s something I would only sit through once– and now that I have done that, I’m off to cook a lavish meal for dinner.
