To quote Anthony Lane: “The legal definition of torture has been much aired in recent years, and I take Mamma Mia! to be a useful contribution to that debate.”
Or as funny lady Julie Klausner, who is as rad as ever, put it: “I thought about what a mentally retarded person’s reaction to the Mamma Mia! film would be, in all honesty, just as Katy St. Clair showed, in her essay from Best Music Writing of 2006, how Huey Lewis has a disproportionately large number of “special” fans. I think they would have a good time. There’s a great deal of repetition of the gag in which peoples’ heads pop up in unison, Muppet-like, in lieu of choreography, and the colors are bright, the jokes highly broad, and the songs, obviously, panacean. But for those of us who are not as easily thrilled, it’s like a disco minstrel show.”
So, um. It really was the closest thing I’ve seen to a menopause pill commercial on the big screen, pretty much ever. A. was sitting next to me and kept whispering pill names excitedly, “Ask your doctor about Boniiiva!” It was apt. The only time I laughed was when I thought about how two of my companions, obligated to see the movie again later in the week, would have to endure Streep looking drunk and generally embarassed twice. You know it’s bad when an actor looks like they are apologizing for being in a film DURING the film.
