Super trouper

Mamma Mia
PG, Nationwide

The three possible dads? They are Pierce Brosnan, Stellan Skarsgård and Colin Firth. Heavens, I’d hate it if Colin Firth turned out to be my dad. All that sexual fantasising for all this time; just how creepy would that be? It’s Brosnan, though, who is really the romantic lead and his performance is actually sweetly touching. In fact, when he sings he tries so hard to sing you can actually see all the vocal lessons he’s had in the set and tension of his jaw. It’s strangely moving, this triumph of effort over talent. And Lady Meryl of all that is Streep; can she sing? That’s what everyone has been asking, like it even matters. It’s Meryl Streep; it doesn’t matter. (Actually, she can sing well enough: Postcards from the Edge; hello? Anyone at home?) But you don’t hire Ms Streep to sing. You hire her because although she’s not all that great at not taking herself seriously, and can’t romp and camp her way through with as much delicious and joyful abandon as Julie Walters (who plays Donna’s old friend, Rosie), she can take a song like ‘Winner Takes It All’ and give it much more depth and gravitas than it has ever, or will ever, deserve. She can also do beautiful without even being pretty. And she does that thing with her face — is it some kind of twitch of the lip? — that always makes her look as if she’s on the edge of some kind of delirium, and which is always just mesmerising somehow.

But joyful abandon is the thing, I think, and the key. Mamma Mia (What a Slag, Pre-Dungarees!) has been made with the most delicious, joyful abandon and all it asks is that you joyfully and deliciously abandon yourself to it and don’t make too many observations along the lines of: how clever of Sophie to know the exact addresses of her three possible dads after all these years! You have to buy into its spirit and, oh, the joy of the big numbers, like ‘Dancing Queen’, when the whole island ends up on the beach, including the little old Greek ladies, or Julie Walter’s pursuit of Stellan Skarsgård, pleading with him to ‘Take A Chance On Me’. Lovely. Such fun. In fact, Julie Walters performs as if she never knew there was so much fun to be had (with clothes on or off; I am still struggling to remember).

OK, it’s a busy film, perhaps too busy, and there is a lot of hugging, perhaps too much hugging, and Sophie is quite wet, but it’s also a beautifully realised piece of cinema which has no agenda beyond pure, full-on, toe-tapping entertainment. Go and enjoy, although not after midnight, should you fear missing out on a gentlemen caller. (Do you fear that, Bubbles? ‘I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do.’)

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Make Celebrities History

July 11th, 2008 1:23am Report this comment

Oh for the film reviews of yesteryear! Admittedly British culture, such as it ever was, has been completely drowned out since the days of Graham Greene by the din created by the vulgarian promoters of "celebrity" pop singers . But isn't one still entitled to expect that in The Spectator, of all places, a reviewer would have some degree of literacy, and some remaining vestiges of classical allusion beyond the titles and lyrics of pop songs

Dylan, not Dillon, Thomas

July 11th, 2008 10:56pm Report this comment

Make Celebrities History - Oh, you've hit my g-spot with that !

But if you will let a restaurant 'critic' loose in a cinema, what can one expect ? Last week she was dissing Keira and Sienna for having Welsh accents that made them sound like Indians.

What fatuous tosh ! I grew up in Dylan Thomas land, and whatever else one says about the film they made a truly creditable performance on the accent front.

I could almost fancy them, in their frocks, stockings and the wellies - if only they weren't so skinny ! They'd never manage with the milking like that - luckily they didn't have too -and one suspects that D. Ross has never even seen a cow, much less met a genuine Welsh person, in Crouch End.

There is a reason Peter Bradshaw writes for the Guardian - other media would be panicking about 'upsetting the advertisers'...

JohnA

July 12th, 2008 1:54am Report this comment

Hm, I always find Welsh people do sound rather like Indians, Dylan. I often test them with simple questions, such as, do you have Kingfisher? Can you give me a receipt? A receipt, from the till? The till - that thing you put the money in? And if they are obviously nonplussed, I realise they must be Welsh, and just leave them in peace.
It works for me.
That Dylan Thomas film was rubbish though. And no mango chutney either.

Make Celebrities History

July 12th, 2008 6:50am Report this comment

Thankyou Dylan Thomas. I did not see Deborah Ross's review of the film about your eponymous countryman, but I am surprised that she would even have heard of him. Which is a pity, because she could otherwise have enriched her "reviews" with allusions to, say, not going gently into that good night, or being up to No Good Boyo, or being young and easy under the apple bough. But on the subject of making celebrities history, I am sure that you and I are joined by many millions Britons in this desire. In case the movement ever comes to anything, I am preparing, like the man in "The Mikado", a little list. So far it contains the names of (Sir) Bob Geldof, Bono, Abba, Meryl Streep, Kylie Minogue (OBE), Nicole Kidman, Cate Blanchett, Britney Spears, Amy Winehouse, Pete Doherty, Jade Goody and all those untalented, ill-bred, uneducated, overexposed, vacuous charlatans, mountebanks and bores whose "celebrity" is the product not of talent or ability but of commercial promotion and the abysmal taste of the great British public.

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