Julie & Julia (2009)

Embittered by her day job as a government employee who helps survivors of of the 9/11 attacks and their families cope, Julia Powell (Amy Adams) turns to the one thing she uses to forget her woe-filled days: cooking. With the encouragement of her husband Eric, Julie attempts to master the art of French cooking with Julia Child as her inspiration blogging all the way.

Based on Powell’s book of the same name, Nora Ephron’s adaptation follows the source material flawlessly. I think. I gave up on the book. But much like the book, the film has too much of the whiny Julie Powell and not enough of the kitchen icon, Julia Child.

The film’s real treat is Meryl Streep as Julia Child and Stanley Tucci as her husband Paul. Let me tell you—every frame these two are in comes alive with chemistry and joy. Streep channels Child flawlessly. From height to hearty laughter, here is a woman with a true zest for life. Dan Akroyd’s impersonation on SNL is featured here for laughs, but it is Streep that really charms. Paul dotes on this wife and Stanley Tucci makes you believe it. You can’t help but fall in love with these two.

In contrast is modern day Julie and Eric. Julie comes across as whiny, ungrateful, and dull. Amy Adams is in a constant state of pouting and quickly proves to be an irritant. Julie is simply not as interesting as Julia. Eric (Chris Messina) is the long-suffering husband that turns on his wife as quickly as she gets interesting in the cooking and stops having sex.

The film’s structure—switching between Queens and Post-war France—helps to break the weaker of plot points.  Less that midway through, the lack of engaging modern characters is so apparent this viewer just wanted the goose to be cooked.

As I see it, only the long-suffering viewer will be rewarded and that comes at the end where Julie visits the Smithsonian exhibit of Julia’s kitchen. Julie and Julia isn’t bad. But I can’t help feeling that you must really, really, REALLY want to see this one in order to fully enjoy it.