Sunday, January 11, 2009

Mamma Mia!


I got the DVD for Christmas, a surprise, because I don't usually expect anything for Christmas (expect nothing and you will not be disappointed). Amelia saw it at a friend's house, and she's heard the songs since the friend's parents play it in their car. Tillie, the theater major, had seen it. But the little girls and I had not seen this ABBA-themed screen version of a Broadway and London production that I never heard of before I started noticing previews for the movie.

The first time I watched it, I was a bit disappointed. You gotta admit it--the older guys can't sing.

The other weird thing about the movie is the time factor. While the character Sophie is a luminous and totally believable 20-year-old, and her boyfriend is a major hunk and also a totally believable 20-year-old (and they can both sing), the "adult" characters are all, well, too old. Meryl Streep is in her late fifties, but her character should be about, say, forty-five at the most. And "twenty years ago" looks like it was supposed to be in the sixties or seventies, which doesn't add up.

(This is not necessarily a big deal, I just happen to like accuracy. Some kinds of accuracy, anyway. I liked the movie "The Core," where the center of the earth stops moving and they have to go down there in kind of a submarine/rocket ship and start it up again. Hey, I was fine with that. But back to Mamma Mia--)

I was also confused, because I didn't know anything about ABBA except what I saw in "Muriel's Wedding."

So after the first time, I sat down and watched the director's commentary version. Then I watched the regular movie again. Then I got on the internet and looked up just who or what ABBA is, and what on earth a "Super Trouper" is, and it all started to come together.

The little girls watched it with me, and they were hooked--of course, it's just the kind of thing that elementary-school-aged girls would love. It's especially suited for Francie, who can't sit still through any movie unless people are leaping around and singing.

The director's commentary cleared up some stuff for me--like the Greek folk hanging around and singing backup while the actors don't pay much attention to them. Turns out they are supposed to be a Greek chorus. Okay. As a kid, I could never figure out the ballet sequences in musicals either. Like "Oklahoma," which I used to watch on our local public television station. Everything would be moving right along, and suddenly they would drop into some random fantasy ballet stuff. Never could figure that out, when I was in junior high.

Meryl Streep can sing. The women, although technically too old for their parts, are in great shape. As a forty-something woman, I started to look at them and think, gee, HOW old is she? I need to take some dance lessons. At one point, Christine Baranski, who is in her mid-fifties, lifts a very lithe leg into the air so that her foot is level with her head. It made me want to take ballet lessons. Maybe it's not too late after all.

Although I have never been an ABBA fan, here's the thing--you watch the movie, and then you can't get the songs out of your head. They're like a drug. You need more. I also got an Ipod for Christmas (huge surprise, as I said) and I am planning to buy the CD and get Amelia or Alan to download it onto the Ipod for me. Then I can listen at work, in an effort to get enough of "Honey, Honey" and "Waterloo" so that they stop playing in my head spontaneously ALL THE FREAKING TIME.

So, it's addictive. After my first disappointment, I ended up giving it five stars on Netflix, because, what the hell. Meryl Streep jumps on a bed. Everyone wears sequins and makes complete fools of themselves. There's a Greek chorus floating on clouds. Why not.

Pierce Brosnan still can't sing. Colin Firth sings very sweetly when he's allowed to, on the boat. At the end, of course--well, I read that he was embarrassed by the movie, but he shouldn't be. Hey, we all know he never would have picked out those boots for himself.

Anyway, I give it a thumbs up, if you are a female. I would never dream of trying to convince Fred to watch it.