Occasionally Husband and Fio cook up popcorn and put on a movie, usually Fio's choice rather than that of Husband, who favors testosterone-driven epics featuring a lot of noise and action. Fio prefers musicals and happy endings, so Mama Mia it was.
With Husband sitting patiently beside her, Fio kept waiting for the movie to get better, but, by mutual consent, they turned it off halfway through. Mama Mia may have been a great stage play, but its transition to the silver screen was klunky at best.
Meryl Streep was not worthy of herself. It takes more to portray an over-aged flower child than snoring, letting her hair hang in her face, and hurling herself around the stage like a latter-day Bacchanite. Fio liked her better as the devil who wore Prada.
The show-biz ubiquitous Christine Barinski (who's resembling Morgan Fairchild more and more with each plastic surgery) was stereotypical wallpaper. No fault of hers--that's how the part of written. And Pierce Brosnan, mailing in his performance, seemed embarrassed that he had signed up for show.
The plot was cute, but not well carried out, and the cuts from scene to scene were bewilderingly rapid. Why? To disguise the fact that there was NO CONTINUITY?
Wish us better luck the next time we haul out the popcorn popper.
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