I saw this movie with my mom, which is probably the best way to see it. This is by no means at all a work of groundbreaking, thought-provoking cinema, but Florence Foster Jenkins is such a delightful little confection of a movie that it's difficult not to recommend. In an age where online harassment by trolls of high-profile celebrities and public figures are getting extensive media attention and negativity is at the forefront of nearly every major news story, it's nice to have a movie strictly about a group of people working to the bone to keep someone else happy. But don't fret, fellow fans of sarcasm and pessimism, their creation of a sort of ridiculous socialite echo chamber, and the film's own tacit congratulating of it, are not met without ridicule. Frears welcomes your scoffing and mockery amid his film's own beguiling good nature.
Nicholas Martin's screenplay is not note-perfect here - the film does drag a bit toward the middle, and these performances are honestly a bit above their material. But if you're like me and are a fan of the kind of quips and crackly posh back-and-forthing that is so quintessentially British, you'll find yourself grinning through most of this movie's sequences. If you're also like me and enjoy period pieces featuring lavish sets and costumes, and hallmarks of the 1940s like swing dancing, tame and playful sexuality, and people somehow still looking distinguished and proper while being completely wasted, then this movie is once again a treat, especially once Florence starts flaunting her most ridiculous headpieces. Honestly, it's difficult to rag on this movie's flaws when there are just so many things to enjoy about it.
Like I said, the performances in this movie are honestly above their material, but this is anything but a negative point. Meryl Streep is reliably excellent - it's become almost an eye-roller to sing her praises as an actress, but she is a soon-to-be-20-time Oscar nominee for a reason. As someone who has time and again displayed actual substantial singing talent, her command of a character whose singing voice is impressively bad is remarkable. Few films get truly bad singing right - Florence's singing isn't just loud or slightly off-key. As one character puts it, "it defies medical science". Streep also adds considerable depth to her character, to the point that, even without the aide of brilliant makeup work, becomes another fully living person on the screen. Simon Helberg plays their jittery pianist in a way that could've been one-note, but ends up being almost as layered as it is entertaining.
Storied sub-par rom-com aficionado Hugh Grant nearly channels a Grant of another era by the name of Cary in his role as Florence's husband in an open relationship. Grant starts off screen-stealingly enough as a posh and peppy man that is the essence of the wartime elite, and soon grows into a fully realized character that adds to the humanity of the story. By the time Mr. Bayfield is explaining to us that he keeps Florence safe from the haters because he is devoted to her, we really feel and believe it, just as we do when Florence herself describes her love for music and performing.
In the end, Florence Foster Jenkins is not perfect, but it's an entertaining, funny, and sweet crowd-pleaser about courage, devotion, and just straight-up being nice. Streep and Grant are excellent in the lead roles, with a team of wonderful supporting players, some sure-handed direction from Stephen Frears, gorgeous costume work by Consolata Boyle, and reliably great swinging jazzy musical score from Alexandre Desplat to back them up in an otherwise somewhat loosely written story. The score may seem low, but this is a rather enthusiastic recommendation.
Grade: B+
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