OK. Yeah, I saw it. In a real theater with popcorn, whereas I usually wait for this kind of sleepy movie to come out on DVD.
But see, all the foodies and bloggers were spewing reviews of "Julie & Julia," mostly positive, so I figured I'd better get it while it was hot.
The hot buttered popcorn, that is. It was fantastic. Orville Redenbacher's, with real melted butter. Drool.
Oh. The movie. Well, I'm the type of foodie that would eat movie popcorn while watching a movie about Julia Child and her gimmicky stalker, Julie Powell.
No wonder Julia didn't want to talk to her! All Julie was doing was making a mockery of a book intended to deliver slow, deliberate lessons.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
OK. The movie. I thought it was a bore. At exactly the moment in the movie when I realized I was bored, a couple behind me got up and walked out.
The audience! The audience at the matinee I attended was — forgive the sexist ageism — mainly little old ladies. Women of a certain generation, who had lived vicariously through Julia's television cooking shows. This being Marin County, where Julia went to school, some of the women might even have known her once.
But they were definitely aged. There was a walker parked at the top of one aisle, and many of those without walkers were dodderers. At the end of the movie, a manager with a flashlight was summoned into the theater, presumably to help someone out. I hope that's all it was. She had a grim look.
Right. The movie. Well, it was filmed in glorious creamy light, so that's a plus. The food shots were fan-damn-tastic. Everything looked not only real, but expertly concocted, even the disasters. I actually came home and dug out "Mastering the Art" and looked up a couple of recipes — from the movie — that I want to try.
The costumes were good... enough. The music was... dumb. Diddly. Lighthearted period stuff meant to evoke utter boredom (for the Julia scenes) and outright pop parodies (e.g., "Psycho Killer" for Julie's lobster-killing scene).
The plot was. Well, what do you want me to say? Two women obsessed with food get book deals. Whoo-hoo! Fade, cut, and that's a wrap! Cast party, people! Rock out!
And, hate me now, but. I couldn't stand Meryl Streep's Julia. Gawd. Surely the real Julia wasn't that throaty and warbly and chirpy All The Time. Paul would have throttled her!
I much preferred Dan Aykroyd's Julia.
Why are you all spinning?