{"id":8078,"date":"2017-01-17T16:21:17","date_gmt":"2017-01-17T20:21:17","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/?p=8078"},"modified":"2017-01-17T16:21:17","modified_gmt":"2017-01-17T20:21:17","slug":"weekend-watch-florence-foster-jenkins","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/2017\/01\/17\/weekend-watch-florence-foster-jenkins\/","title":{"rendered":"Weekend Watch – Florence Foster Jenkins"},"content":{"rendered":"

In children\u2019s literature and children\u2019s programming, there sometimes seem to be a few core themes and lessons that are hammered home over and over. \u201cBe yourself.\u201d \u201cDon\u2019t care what other people think.\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s not about being the best; it\u2019s about having fun.\u201d Children\u2019s narratives are certainly capable of more nuance than that\u2014the children\u2019s-young adult hybrid series Animorphs<\/em>, for example, explores the ramifications of war and the pain of PTSD, concepts that are unexpectedly sophisticated for their target audience\u2014but children\u2019s stories tend to be inherently more simplistic than adult narratives. (I say this as a huge fan of children\u2019s and young adult literature and programming.)<\/p>\n

This week I watched Florence Foster Jenkins<\/em>, a film that is certainly entertaining, but whose central themes are about as sophisticated as a child\u2019s fable. The plot concerns Florence Foster Jenkins (Meryl Streep), a real-life New York City socialite who devoted her life to celebrating opera and music. The premise (based in reality) is a bit sitcom-y; as Florence resumes her singing lessons, everyone around her lies to her about her talent, afraid to be honest with her about how terrible of a singer she is. Florence\u2019s husband and manager, St. Clair Bayfield (Hugh Grant), most blatantly encourages Florence\u2019s delusions, hiring a new accompanist for her lessons and warning him not to criticize her.<\/p>\n

Most of the movie proceeds how you\u2019d expect. Bayfield and accompanist\/audience surrogate Cosm\u00e9 McMoon (Helberg, whose erratic facial twitches are funny, though a little<\/em> too much for me) bend over backwards to cover up the truth. When Florence proposes performing to a wider audience, Bayfield and McMoon hand-pick members of Florence\u2019s Verdi Club, hoping that paying people off will prevent the truth from coming out.<\/p>\n

\"florence-1\"<\/p>\n

There are numerous close calls, like when one socialite named Agnes Stark (Nina Arianda, animated and funny) erupts in uncontrollable laughter at the first recital, but for the most part Florence remains oblivious to her vocal shortcomings until the very end, at which point the movie goes full optimistic crowd-pleaser, laying on all the cheesy lessons you\u2019d expect: be yourself. Don\u2019t care what other people think. It\u2019s not about being the best; it\u2019s about having fun.<\/p>\n

Look, I know that these are lessons that can still be helpful for adults to hear. But you can\u2019t blame me for wishing there was something a little more there. It reminds me of all the cookie-cutter biopic endings when the main characters spew inspirational quotes seemingly designed to generations to come.<\/p>\n

There was Alan Turing, in The Imitation Game<\/em>, being reminded that \u201cSometimes it is the people no one can imagine anything of who do the things no one can imagine.\u201d In Florence Foster Jenkins<\/em>, it\u2019s Florence proudly pointing out that \u201cSome may say that I couldn\u2019t sing, but no one can say that I didn\u2019t<\/em> sing\u201d only moments before she succumbs to sickness and dies. It doesn\u2019t really matter that these historical figures really did<\/em> say those things; movies have to find a way to make those quotes feel like more than empty faux-inspiration, and I\u2019d argue that neither quite succeeds.<\/p>\n

Besides, it\u2019d be easier to enjoy the simplistic lessons for what they are if the film really made you invest in Florence, but she isn\u2019t challenged nearly enough for her schmaltzy breakthrough at the end to hold much emotional weight. At her final concert at Carnegie Hall, the audience breaks out in laughter, and for a moment, Florence is stunned, afraid, confused. But even that moment is quickly reversed when Agnes yells at the audience to be quiet, and everyone ends up giving Florence a standing ovation, encouraging her to go on. She carries on in delusion.<\/p>\n

The only real<\/em> challenge to Florence\u2019s pride occurs with less than 15 minutes left in the movie, when Bayfield fails to prevent her from seeing a copy of the New York Post<\/em>, which contains a scathing review of her performance. Florence is upset, but by limiting the negative reception to just one review, the film\u2019s lesson momentarily shifts to the idea that there\u2019ll always be someone<\/em> who doesn\u2019t like your art, and that you have to accept that not everyone will like you.<\/p>\n

This is an equally disingenuous lesson, because Florence is unquestionably a bad singer. If there\u2019s an argument to be made in her favor, it\u2019s that she does what she\u2019s passionate about, not that she\u2019s an objectively good singer. Limiting the negative reception to only one review makes it feel like one unreasonable outlying opinion.<\/p>\n

Indeed, the few people who are<\/em> honest to Florence are treated as cartoonish villains. The writer of that Post<\/em> article is angry and vindictive, the kind of critic that movies like Birdman<\/em> love to demonize. He seems to relish tearing Florence apart, hyperbolically calling her the worst singer in the world. The film paints him as an evil man who wants to ruin everyone\u2019s fun, even if his criticisms of Florence\u2019s singing are fairly accurate.<\/p>\n

\"florence-3\"<\/p>\n

The movie does have hints of nuance in its subplots. There\u2019s a genuine warmth to Florence\u2019s interactions with McMoon, who she occasionally treats like the son she could never have. The heart of the film, though, lies in the love Florence and Bayfield have for each other.<\/p>\n

At the beginning, when Bayfield\u2019s mistress (Rebecca Ferguson) is introduced, you start to suspect there\u2019ll be a predictable series of scenes culminating in the truth coming out about Bayfield\u2019s infidelity, tearing their marriage apart until a third-act reconciliation. The reality, though, is that Florence and Bayfield have an unspoken understanding; due to Florence\u2019s syphilis, they abstain from sex, and Bayfield finds satisfaction elsewhere. The movie doesn\u2019t delve too deeply into the implications of this arrangement, but it\u2019s refreshing to see Nicholas Martin\u2019s script avoid the trappings of the clich\u00e9 infidelity plot.<\/p>\n

And the movie in general is pretty fun, bolstered by typically strong acting from Streep and Grant, a pleasantly light tone, and expectedly meticulous period detail. It\u2019s an enjoyable experience, even if it mostly fails to come up with anything deeper than \u201cDo what you love and don\u2019t care what other people think.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grade: B-<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

In children\u2019s literature and children\u2019s programming, there sometimes seem to be a few core themes and lessons that are hammered home over and over. \u201cBe yourself.\u201d \u201cDon\u2019t care what other people think.\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s not about being the best; it\u2019s about having fun.\u201d Children\u2019s narratives are certainly capable of more nuance than that\u2014the children\u2019s-young adult hybrid […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2178,"featured_media":8079,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8078"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2178"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8078"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8078\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8082,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8078\/revisions\/8082"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/8079"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8078"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=8078"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=8078"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}