Her brand is excellence, as they say, and Meryl Streep doesn’t make many mediocre movies. For that reason, because it’s August — too hot to be critical! — and because she and director Jonathan Demme carry so much career goodwill, “Ricki and the Flash” is the kind of mediocre movie I can enjoy.
It’s written by Diablo Cody, and the script is nowhere near so sharp as her Oscar-winning “Juno.” In fact, it feels like a sloppy comic paraphrase of Demme’s “Rachel Getting Married.”
The family conflicts here are rote: irresponsible L.A. musician mother Ricki (Streep); her abandoned and remarried husband Pete (Kevin Kline) back in Indianapolis; two grown sons and daughter Julie (Mamie Gummer, Streep’s daughter), who’s in a near-psychotic meltdown after being dumped by her husband.
Since one of Ricki’s sons is engaged to be wed, and since she leads a grizzled bar band in the San Fernando Valley, you can write the final scenes as well as Cody — and quite possibly better. Reconciliation is inevitable, hugs and forgiveness are inescapable; and the only question is how many encores Ricki and the Flash will play.
Streep, channeling both Stevie Nicks and Bonnie Raitt, does all her singing, so respect. And about her band: Demme cast rock veterans on bass, drums, keys (the latter Bernie Worrell, from his Talking Heads concert doc “Stop Making Sense”), and — get ready for it; drumroll, please — on lead guitar and vocals, Mr. Rick Springfield!
The casting is too perfect: Ricki seems stuck in the ’80s, right down to her braids, 10 pounds of mismatched jewelry, and patriotic tramp stamp, and the ’80s are when Springfield hit peak Springfield with “Jessie’s Girl” and “General Hospital.” Today he’s having a small-screen revival on “Californication” and “True Detective.” And, entirely aware of his stereotypical casting, he’s an age-appropriate, effective love interest for Streep.
When was the last time Streep played a woman this dumb? By night she cranks out Tom Petty, U2, and Springsteen covers; by day she’s a supermarket clerk. There’s a bit of class resentment, none too subtly rendered, as she visits Pete’s gated mansionette — where the latter’s trophy wife (Audra McDonald) basically raised Ricki’s three kids.
Yet all these tensions, we know, will predictably resolve in a warm major key. Cody and Demme aren’t reaching for art, just trying to craft something as comfortable as an old car-radio song. The only reason it’s hummable is because Streep is doing the singing.
“Ricki and The Flash” (3 stars)
It’s summer and it’s Streep (as in Meryl), so we’ll cut Diablo Cody’s lackluster script some slack: “Ricki and The Flash” hits some sweet notes. Streep is strong (as always) as a washed-up ’80s rocker now playing in a bar band (fronted by “Jessie’s Girl” Rick Springfield). The ending is predictable and the family conflicts familiar, but the chord progressions to get there are guilty fun.
Rating: PG-13, thematic material, brief drug content, sexuality and language
Showing: Alderwood, Cinnebarre, Edmonds, Everett Stadium, Galaxy Monroe, Marysville, Oak Tree, Pacific Place, Woodinville, Cascade Mall
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