Florence Foster Jenkins is very much the story of a lie for the right reason that’s never morally ambiguous or overtly cruel, which is a filmmaking feat more hard to accomplish than getting Florence to sing well. More seriously, the movie is about “crazy delusions and people who waste their life on them”.
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“Florence Foster Jenkins” was directed by experienced British director Stephen Frears. In it, she plays the title character, based on an actual heiress and socialite born in 1868, who devoted her life to music – despite the fact that she had a squeaky, screechy singing voice. Towards the end he makes a sharp detour into tragedy, something which perhaps plays better than it ought to thanks to his sure hand and Streep’s skillful performance.
Jenkins’ performances lived on, as a cult attraction hailed by the likes of David Bowie (ED: scroll to the bottom of this page) because she foolishly recorded a few tunes for 78 RPM records.
Earlier this year, “Marguerite,”a French film inspired by Jenkins was released in the US”. In real life, it was attended by celebrities including Cole Porter, dancer and actress Marge Champion, composer Gian Carlo Menotti, actress Kitty Carlisle and opera star Lily Pons with her husband, conductor Andre Kostelanetz, who composed a song for Jenkins to sing that night. Her common-law-husband, St Clair Bayfield, did not approve of her doing the concert. “It’s realistic because it is what it is and there is illusion in it that they both prop up and keep aloft, this little bubble of happiness”, she explained.
Part of that romance is Jenkins’ devotion to music. It begs the question: Could she have maintained the same charade in 2016, when the worst singers are chewed up and spit out by reality TV competitions and Internet vultures? “Oh, this is still good” and then as the seasons went on…
We hope to see you next Tuesday! There’s only one problem: She’s awful. If you’re not good at what you do, someone is bound to let you know…most of the time.
Of course, Streep is going to be the MVP of pretty much every movie she’s in.
While the Streep-starring-biopic patina of awards season potential is obvious, Frears thankfully finds humor in the story. There are no Dadaists or Marxists in Jenkins’ circle, whose wackiest member is a brassy blonde (Nina Arianda) straight out of Hollywood’s 1940s. It’s OK to laugh at her, because she’s bad, but not in a “mean” way, OK? McMoon and Bayfield’s conversations are tense, with Bayfield never outright acknowledging his wife’s lack of talent. A failed Shakespearian actor himself, and thus sensitive to ridicule, Bayfield excludes “mockers and scoffers”. He does not necessarily have to make an appearance on the show.
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The movie, opening in USA movie theaters tomorrow, follows Jenkins around 1944 as, at age 76, she prepares for her first big public performance at a sold-out Carnegie Hall. It’s cruel: She’s too far gone. While she initially is made a laughing stock, she wins the hearts of her audience through her sheer passion. I guess I kind of exaggerated about my ability, because I wanted to be in the movie. Whether or not that’s all that matters is anyone’s guess.
