[yasr_overall_rating]
A musician who gave up everything for her dream of rock-and-roll stardom returns home, looking to make things right with her family.
The marketing for “Ricki and the Flash,” left me wondering if this was going to be some weird mix of “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” and “Rock of Ages,” and so I was extremely skeptical going in, praying that Meryl Streep’s hair wouldn’t distract me the whole time and that it wouldn’t be as cringe-worthy and cheesy as the previews lead you to imagine. Prayer must work in some capacity because “Ricki and the Flash,” is fun and ripe with comedic banter and fantastic covers of classic rock, from Tom Petty to Springsteen.
Ricki (Streep) has been summoned by her ex-husband Pete (Kevin Kline) back to Indianapolis to help their daughter Julie (Mamie Gummer) who is in the midst of a mental breakdown because her new enough husband has left her. Although estranged from her children for years, Ricki scrapes up some money to see what she can do to help, terrified of the disdain she may be up against. And disdain she immediately receives upon her arrival from daughter Julie, who looks like Robert Smith from The Cure for the first few scenes and is filled with venom. Mamie Gummer holds her own next to her real life mother, Streep, executing the disgust, pain, and feelings of abandonment with cutting precision.
While the performances of Streep and Gummer are great, the narrative itself is predictable and lacks depth, despite the wittiness of writer Diablo Cody. The family has all the clichéd hall markers of a “modern” family but we never really know who anyone is. We don’t even really understand who Ricki is, we can only piece together hints sprinkled throughout the film. But ultimately, this doesn’t matter. The situations are relatable enough, there are laugh out loud moments and cultural tidbits that keep you hanging on and waiting for the next musical performance.
I am fully convinced Meryl Streep is capable of anything. It goes without saying that no matter the role, Streep is fully committed, and in this film it is no different as she learned to play guitar and develop a singing style for Ricki. Streep’s voice has a salty and husky quality to it in the best possible way, the love and soul for the music is present, and these band scenes are by far the best parts of the film. Director Jonathan Demme, who is no stranger to filming concerts, gives the scenes a dynamic quality, with viewpoints from the dance floor which is speckled with a variety of aging rock enthusiasts, to the ultimate fan bartender (Ben Platt), and the spirited relationship between Ricki and lead guitarist Greg (Rick Springfield).
Despite narrative gripes, this film is pure dysfunctional family fun. And any film that can mention The Who’s rock opera, “Tommy,” in such a subtle way, automatically gets well-deserved props.
In theaters now
