After
seeing the movie I still don't know if I like ABBA or not, but I do
like the movie.
Here
we have a slew of famous actors cavorting around a Greek island on a
paid
vacation, getting to eat, drink, sail, swim, and burst into song at any
opportunity, and the fact that they're having a great time jumps off
the screen
at you.
The
good nature and high spirits of the story almost get out of hand with a
frantic
pace that could use a few more quiet scenes, but the performers'
enthusiasm
carries you through right to the concert during the end credits.
Meryl
Streep plays Donna, innkeeper at a lovely but decaying villa on a
spectacular
Greek island. She's about to marry off her daughter Sophie (the lovely
if
overly-giddy Amanda Seyfried) to a charming young man (Dominic Cooper)
who goes
by the too-70s name of Sky. Sophie invites her two best girlfriends to
be her
bridesmaids, and Donna invites her best pals too, so we get to watch
Julie
Walters and Christine Baranski go wild amid the fishing boats and olive
trees.
Characters
run in threes in Greek stories (the Three Graces, the Three Gorgons) so
here
come three guys for the third group: Sophie has read her mother's diary
(shameless child!), has discovered that there are three candidates for
her
father, and invites them all. “When I meet my dad everything will fall
into
place,” she chirps ingenuously.
The
fact that all three show up could possibly be a plot contrivance, but I
prefer
to think that it's a tribute to the allure of La Streep, a woman d'un
certain age who is still wildly attractive.
Even
if you hate ABBA, Streep is, as usual, a good
reason to see the movie. She has sometimes been
guilty of being too
Streepish on camera (though her acting wheezes are better than many
other
performers' stabs at sincerity), and here she cuts loose, singing (in a
very
good natural voice) and dancing and crying and laughing, and otherwise
having a
Big Time.
Donna
is nonplussed to find her three swains from twenty years before
invading her
island sanctuary, though they all (Pierce Brosnan, Stellan Skarsgård,
and Colin
Firth) are as charming as it's possible to be under the circumstances.
Each man
thinks that Sophie is his daughter, and since Sophie can't bring
herself to
tell them all the whole story, the ensuing confusion provides what
passes for a
plot, the one that all the songs get strung on.
Here
let me digress to the movie's one huge, glaring miscalculation, which
is that
all the actors do their own singing. I hasten to add that this is a
really good
idea for almost everybody in the cast: Colin Firth has a really sweet
voice,
and Baranski and Walters can belt out a torch song that would not shame
Bessie
Smith, usually while sliding off rooftops or falling into the sea.
But
oh my – something none of us ever knew is that Pierce Brosnan CANNOT
sing. The
reason we didn't know this is that nobody has ever asked him to sing
before,
and now we know why. His voice is a breathy, rasping croak that
approximates
pitches in the most casual way; usually you can tell he's singing only
because
the words that come out are in rhyme. But, do you know something else?
It
doesn't matter. His enthusiasm and good nature shine through the
grotesque
attempts at la vocalise, so you
end up being as fond of him for
his failure as you are of the three-year-old who forgets her words in
the
Sunday School pageant.
In
fact, there is very little in this movie for anyone except a sourpuss
to find
fault with, from the Greek peasants who form a real Greek Chorus, to
the
exuberant performances of the really happy cast, to the Greek scenery
of the
Greek islands that look more like paradise with each passing frame.
(Can
seawater really be all those shades of blue?)
If,
as I am, you are fond of movie musicals,
you've enjoyed (with reservations) recent entries,
such as “Chicago” and
“Rent” with their dark stories and sometimes challenging scores. “Mamma
Mia!”
can't be called challenging on any level; it's an amiable hoot, so
treat
yourself to a mini vacation in the Isles of Greece for a lesson in
having a
good time.