The biggest farce in the operatic music scene involves a woman with very little actual talent, in “Florence Foster Jenkins”. In the 1940’s, New York Socialite and nightclub owner Florence Foster Jenkins (Meryl Streep) dreams of becoming a great opera singer, while playing the biggest houses in the world. Unfortunately, her ambition for the spotlight far exceeds her pitchy talent. The voice Florence hears in her head is beautiful, but to everyone else it is quite lousy. Her husband St Clair Bayfield (Hugh Grant) then goes to extreme lengths, including hiding newspapers with negative reviews about her performances, to make sure his wife never finds out how truly awful she really is. When Florence announces her plans for a concert at Carnegie Hall, St Clair soon realizes that he’s facing his greatest challenging secret yet, reminding us that beauty is always in the ear of the beholder. The film is based on a true story, scripted by Nicholas Martin, and directed by Stephen Frears. The film is rated PG-13 for suggestive material.
What’s so fascinating about “Florence Foster Jenkins”, is that for an individual who has zero interest in opera or the theatre lifestyle, I found this movie very inviting into its world of culture. The score is of course entirely opera music, but Frears defined for me the very essence of opera music, and just how important it was during the big boom era of the 1940’s. The film balances an equal offering of high-brow British humor with heartfelt dramatic emotion that really equals a touching core for the avid moviegoer. Martin really feels like someone who was plucked out wisely to tell Florence’s story, and how she fought an uphill battle constantly. This isn’t a protagonist who goes on to master the vocal talents, instead she is a horrendous singer, and the producers of the movie have no problem conveying that feeling across. The film takes the audience on a wide range of emotional response from the first act of the movie, which demands that we laugh at Florence’s misfires with vocal depth, and then condemn us for those responses during the third act, when the truth becomes evident to us; she will never be the kind of singer that she wants. It does feel borderline manipulative, but Frears and Martin team up to give me one of the classier theater experiences that I have had for the Summer.
Front and center here are three noteworthy performances for three very different talents. Streep once again channels her inner method actress by nailing a very gentle side of Jenkins. Meryl has always been the kind of actress to add great depth to the characters she takes on, and her performance here left me spellbound and entranced by how someone so annoying in musical tone could be so intriguing over the course of 105 minutes. Hugh Grant was my favorite character of the movie, and has certainly perfected the likeable English gentlemen type, by this point in his career. Grant dazzles in this role because we see his honest intentions towards a wife that he very much loves in spirit, without actually loving her physically. He hides a lot from her to protect her, and that always felt noble instead of deceiving. Where Grant really takes over the movie however, is in his delivery of fine-tuned humor without ever breaking away from the elegant St Clair. Grant understands this character, and there’s something very enjoyable between the chemistry between he and Streep, despite their miles apart filmography that couldn’t be any more different. They are both reliable in making this film as enjoyable and as poignant as possible. Leaps and bounds however, the person who stole the show for me was Simon Helberg as Cosmoe McMoon, the hired pianist for Florence, who finds out her evident secret early on in the film. Helberg gave me some of the most honest and hearty laughter that I have had from a performance this year, and his facial reactions strike a chord of Charlie Chaplin for me, especially when the comedy relies heavily on his facials early on. Simon’s moral ground is challenged, and I was happy that the movie doesn’t forget about his subplot, despite him not actually being one of the top-billed roles in the movie.
The film’s visuals and cinematography are also very well represented in the era of sparkling gowns and big-bodied automobiles. The New York style is presented with every practical detail coming to fruition. The air is crisp with opportunity, the buildings are clean with their deco stylings, and it all feels like a story taking place on another planet where zero expense is spared. Everything feels visually stimulating here, and it’s Frears most visually ambitious film to date.
What is so thought-provoking about the movie is how it challenges our meaning of what is defined as success. Does it mean vocal range and talent? Does it mean record sales? Does it mean visual enchantment? All of these are kind of left for the viewer to decide, and my feeling is that Florence was successful because whether the people liked or hated her capabilities, she was always the talk of the town. As the film went on, the importance of success seemed less appropriate when compared to the commitment in following your dreams, and never faltering in the face of adversity. Jenkins faces a lot of the latter over the course of this presentation, but the movie always has that light-hearted tone that makes it feel like better days are ahead. The last ten minutes does feel like it’s hanging, and didn’t send me home with the best taste of triumph, despite Florence’s never-say-die attitude about following the mission at hand. It’s all wrapped up a little too conventional, even for a biopic, and becomes clear that the ending of this movie is the weak point of the script.
Overall, “Florence Foster Jenkins” hits a tone creatively that the title character never reaches audibly over the course of her story. It’s funny, charming, and most importantly, affectionate. One lost art in the world of cinema is a movie that can make us cry as much as it makes us laugh, but Frears latest offering might bridge the gap in a concept that seems as foreign as a vocally-challenged woman who re-defined the meaning of concept in culture. Vulnerability never sounded so sweet.
8/10