Allow me tell you lot. Just because I've been listening to ABBA about not-terminate since I saw MAMMA MIA! ii days ago does not mean I enjoyed the motion picture all that much. It's just the Swedish popular super group's music is and so darn infectious. You would think that energy would translate to feel-not bad proficient time at the movies simply sadly this is non the case. Beginning time characteristic filmmaker, Phyllida Lloyd, spends far too much time dragging her feet when they should be dancing upwards and downwardly the beach and no matter how many shots of the moonlight shimmering against the waves there are, the film is still a clunker instead of a stunner.
When a musical is newspaper thin on the stage, it runs the hazard of being just plain silly on the screen. On the stage, MAMMA MIA! is a somewhat justified excuse to revive a agglomeration of ABBA tracks wrapped into a completely implausible, overly romantic farce. Immature Sophie (played on screen by Amanda Seyfried) is but xx and about to marry the very supportive and very handsome, Sky (Dominic Cooper). Something is missing though. Sophie has lived on this tiny Greek island her entire life and helped run a crumbling hotel with her mother, Donna (Meryl Streep) but she has never met her father. Every bit far as she knows, he left before her mother could say anything to him just a gamble encounter with her mother's diary from the summer of her conception narrows the possible men to three. So rather than talk to her mother nigh her desire to know where she came from, she invites all three men (Pierce Brosnan, Colin Firth and Stellan Skarsgard) to her wedding, pretending to be her female parent looking for a reunion. Naturally all three men take the invite and hijinks ensue. While the campiness of the whole matter is forgiven on stage considering the break of atheism doesn't apply, this screen version is too far removed from the stage to feel the least scrap plausible.
I believe in angels, something good in everything I see. And while there is very trivial good to focus on in MAMMA MIA!, at least at that place is e'er surprising Streep. She jumps upwards and down on beds, slides downwards banisters without the least bit of concern for breaking her hip. She can sing also. Much like she did in THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA, Streep'south performance as the lonely mother of the bride carries the film forward and, in the evidence stopping "The Winner Takes Information technology All", elevates the motion-picture show to heights it could never have accomplished without her participation. Though the two don't get nearly enough screen time together, Streep and Seyfriend make a great mother/daughter philharmonic. Seyfried's fresh exuberance seems like it might actually be inherited from her movie mom. The rest of the cast delivers varying results – Julie Walters clearly thinks she is a comic genius but she comes off too brash; Christine Baranski is miscast as an older bombshell making for some peculiarly awkward moments with younger men; and someone should ensure that Pierce Brosnan never sings on screen again.
Ultimately, MAMMA MIA! never connects all of its components. A melodramatic moment is followed past a peppy ABBA song, which somehow erases everyone's hurting. In that sense, ABBA's music is the perfect option to gear up the tone equally it is some of the about depressing pop lyricism set to upbeat melodies in pop history. While the dissimilarity adds weight to the songs themselves, the musical masking casts an air of falseness that never lifts. What your left with is a compilation of poorly choreographed, plain sung music videos. No offence, Meryl, but yous are long past your MTV days.
