Julie & Julia

Let's get this much out of the way right now. I am not, in any way, the target audience for Julie & Julia, the mash-up of two real-life stories involving the famous late chef Julia Child. I am not a woman, I don't much like Nora Ephron movies, I find Meryl Streep overrated, and Child's style of performing as a chef grated. So, yeah, the fact that I don't like this movie should not surprise you. "Why, then, Josh", you ask as you read this review, ready to attack if need be (for I somehow view you, dear reader, as hostile, and we can only assume I am foolish for thinking so), "Why, then, would you watch this movie if you knew you would not like it?"

Fair question, not-hostile reader. Most times, I avoid movies I'm predisposed to dislike. Take The Blind Side, a sleeper box-office success if there ever was one. I know I am not going to like this movie. I have nothing against true-story movies, nor sports movies, nor inspirational filmmaking. I have everything against Sandra Bullock. As with Meryl Streep, I do not like her, though for very different reasons. Whereas most people find Bullock's work in Miss Congeniality and Two Weeks Notice charming, I find it obnoxious. Granted, The Blind Side is not only a true story, but it's not a romantic comedy. Still, I get the feeling that Bullock's portrayal of a straight-talkin' Southern belle will drive me up a fucking wall. So, it's better that I don't see it; I'm biased enough as it is.

But, to answer the question at hand, I saw Julie & Julia because I am a good husband. My wife was recently sick, with pneumonia, and though I had no interest, I saw the movie at the store, knew she'd want to watch it, and picked it up. At the very least, she would have a good time. So, imagine my surprise that neither of us had a good time. Oh, there have been more terrible movies, and 2009 was not short of them. Two other movies I saw because I am a good husband? Transformers 2 and New Moon. I tell you, reader, I am a very good husband.

Ah, but Julie & Julia is not a good movie. The plots (first problem, too) are simple enough: one is about Julie Powell, a woman in her late twenties working in a post-9/11 job at Ground Zero. She hates her job, envies those of her vacuous friends, but finds an outlet when she decides to blog about cooking every recipe in the book Mastering the Art of French Cooking, co-written by Julia Child. The other plot is about how Julia Child, back in the 1950s, moved to Paris with her husband and was able to become such a well-respected chef that she co-wrote the very book Powell is working from.

So where lies the problem? Let's start with the easy issue: why does there need to be a second plot? All of the critics who slammed the section starring Amy Adams, a usually lovely and charming actress, as Powell were right. It's not just that when Adams is onscreen, we want Streep to come back. It's that Adams' presence is pointless, her character is self-absorbed, and our time is wasted. Never has this vivacious woman seemed less attractive, less charming, and less cheery. Powell is always thinking of number one, which is fine if we're not meant to find her a delightful little creature, learning how to "blog" on the "Internet". If, by the way, you're looking for any insight into how a blog became so successful back in 2002, aside from Powell writing for Salon.com, don't get excited.

So, with Adams (who has never been made to look less superficially attractive, by the way; call me shallow, but it's who I am) out of the picture, what of the storyline with Streep? Well, it's got Stanley Tucci. Streep is...OK, but she's never doing anything more than an impersonation of Julia Child. I never felt like she inhabited the character, in the same way that Philip Seymour Hoffman, for example, did in Capote. Granted, Hoffman had a lot more to work with, but Streep is just floundering. Her chemistry with Tucci, who plays her husband, is undeniable, and their scenes are the best of the movie. That doesn't make the movie any better when they're not both onscreen.

I leave you with this. There is a scene, about halfway through Julie & Julia in which Powell and her husband sit on the couch, watching the famous Saturday Night Live sketch wherein Dan Aykroyd portrays Child and cuts off his finger, spraying blood everywhere. It's a classic. There's no explanation as to how these two found the clip on TV. There's no reason for them to watch it. And they do watch it. All of it. Why? I have no idea. Some people are praising Streep, who will surely get an Oscar nod, because she is Meryl Streep playing a real person and doing a forceful impersonation; I don't agree, and, in general, my low expectations were actually surpassed, in the opposite way. Sigh.