Florence Foster Jenkins Review: Ear-Achingly Sweet Dramedy

Director: Stephen Frears
Cast: Meryl Streep, Hugh Grant, Simon Helberg, Nina Ariande, Rebecca Ferguson, John Kavanagh
Rating: PG
Running Time: 110 mins 
Release Date: May 6th 2016

She’s played a cancer-suffering narcotics addict in AUGUST: OSGAGE COUNTY, a middle aged rock ‘n’ roller in RICKI AND THE FLASH, a predictably vicious version of Anna Wintour in THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA; she’s even played the notorious conservative party leader Margaret Thatcher in THE IRON LADY, and now in this delightful drama/comedy combo, Meryl Streep tackles the infamous singer Florence Foster Jenkins and her, how shall I put it, indescribable voice. Is there anything this woman cannot do?

FLORENCE FOSTER JENKINS quite simply introduces us to Manhattan socialite and arts patron Florence Foster Jenkins, whose long dreamt about performing opera and decides to once again take up singing lessons with her indulgent maestro who is less then candor when it comes to constructive criticism. Hugh Grant plays Jenkins’ husband St. Clair Bayfield, an unsuccessful shakespearian monologuist that you would assume to be more of an old devoted friend or even father figure, much less her husband, especially as their relationship is far from conventional with a mutual agreement of no sexual activity and separate houses (though Jenkins is entirely unaware that Bayfield shares his home with his girlfriend Kathleen played by Rebecca Ferguson).

Simon Helberg plays the puny pianist Cosme McMoon hired in aid of Florence’s performances, though once he hears her sing, he spends the rest of the time fretting about his reputation. Jenkins, with rapidly deteriorating health caused by syphilis, decides very quickly she’s ready to perform live, and eventually at Carnegie Hall, much to the dismay of her husband whose spent the majority of their lives shielding her from criticism and bribing journalists for positive reviews, fuelling much of her delusional belief that she’s a talented performer. 

While people have always been familiar with Florence Foster Jenkins, even after her death in the mid 40’s, it still took well over sixty years before a notable portrayal of the generous but musically tortured singer would come around. A stage show titled GLORIOUS! dropped in the mid-noughties, and introduced a new generation to the performer, but it would be another ten years before a film was made. Typical though, you wait seventy years for a single biopic, and suddenly we’re hit by two from different angles all at once. French film MARGUERITE by Xavier Giannoli portrays the more solemn version of events, set earlier in 1920’s Paris. Unlike it’s tragic counterpart, Stephen Frears version is far more lighthearted and manages to make a biopic feel particularly integrated into the dramedy genre.

Meryl Streep honestly can do no wrong, bringing a wonderfully warm vulnerability to a kind-hearted but fragile character, both mentally and physically. Whimsical and pompous characters suit her well, much like in JULIE AND JULIA where she plays an equally aged and deranged Julia Childs. Streep, with extra padding around her tummy, is able to pull off being both totally self-obsessed and inspiringly generous all at once, and the fact that she’s able to pay her way through life and use money as a means to get her way could very easily have been shown tastelessly, but instead we see a wealthy woman who genuinely loved and respected music, often donating much of the money made from her concert tickets to charity.

At the end of the day though, the story itself is rather heartbreaking. Her voice really was terrible, imagine waking up to hear the foxes screeching in the middle of the night, double that, add in a couple of screaming cats and you’re on the right track. The audience, including myself, all howled with laughter at the screen each time Streep opened her mouth to echo out a note, much like the the audience in Carnegie Hall. So it’s hard to remember that actually this isn’t a fictional story; Florence Foster Jenkins existed in all her entirety and every time we tried to fool ourselves into thinking that we were laughing with her, we were truly laughing at her as she whole-heartedly believed she was a remarkable singer, to find out otherwise would crush even the best of us.

While Meryl Streep is always the highlight of her films, it’s really Hugh Grant that we need to talk about it. Normally typecast as the love interest, he gallantly pulls off the suave 1940’s gentleman sipping on his manhattan, despite playing the husband.  I’ve always had a soft spot for Grant, particularly in his early years with films like NOTTING HILL, NINE MONTHS, and FOUR WEDDINGS AND A FUNERAL (don’t even try and pretend that you didn’t want to be in Andie MacDowell’s place kissing Grant at the end…). He consistently played the epitome of a 90’s posh British love interest, which with age eventually phased out, and this was the first time I saw an element of the old school Hugh Grant. He brought genuity to a character that could have been heartless in a similar situation, and despite having a woman on the side, I never once doubted his love and loyalty to Florence, whom he affectionately nicknames Bunny, particularly during a touching moment towards the end of the film. Though his character’s actions could be misconstrued, there is never a moment that I believe he’s acting maliciously, it’s all only done with the best of intentions. We don’t actually find out the reasons behind St. Clair Bayfield’s continued devotion to Florence, and perhaps this is something that would be better explained through a documentary exploring her life. 

I must admit, I found the character of Cosme McMoon played by BIG BANG THEORY’s Simon Helberg irritating. Though he is generally set up to be relatively grating, I found his anxious and weedy disposition to be somewhat nerving, particularly with his pre-pubescent sounding voice. I also felt Rebecca Ferguson, playing Kathleen, was highly underused, to the point where I wondered what the point was of featuring her at all.

My only criticism would be that the film felt somewhat stretched out. The story in itself isn’t a particularly complex one, and relies on repetitive comedic cues to have impact. The build up to hearing Meryl Streep sing as Florence Foster Jenkins for the first time is what initially motivates the audience to hold their breath, but after processing the shock of her voice and having a good old laugh, the film starts to depend quite heavily on the audience continually finding Streep’s challenged vocals the main source of amusement.

However, the film is warm, exceedingly well cast, and touchingly funny. In a current sea of acutely serious films, I must honestly admit that it’s been a while since I’ve seen a film that made me laugh, and what a nice change that is. 

Verdict

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