Four Kernels*
Just caught the newest Meryl Streep flick, Julie & Julia, based on two memoirs: Julia Child's My Life in France and Julie Powell's Julie and Julia, an account of the year she spent trying to cook every recipe in Child's seminal cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, and blogging about the experience. The film deftly switches between the two women's stories to show how Child (played by Streep) came to write the book, essentially how she became THE Julia Child of cookbook and TV fame; and how 50 years later her efforts inspired rudderless Julie Powell (Amy Adams) to get some direction in her life.
Much has been made of Streep's glorious performance as Child, capturing not only the distinctive warble, but also the infectious enthusiasm of the famous chef. Every superlative is justified, as Streep once again turns in a stellar performance sure to garner another Oscar nomination. She IS the definitive actress of our age. Unfortunately, her portrayal is so good that poor Adams bears the brunt of criticism directed at the film simply because her character is not as interesting or vivacious as Child. Other critics gripe about how Powell's character reflects all the narcissistic, celebrity-obsessed, get-rich-quick, etc. traits of the modern Internet generation. I think those who level such criticism at the film miss an important point: Powell would agree with them.
Based on interviews I've seen and read with Powell (an Austin native, BTW), her portrayal on screen---warts and all---is a fair reflection of her personality and life. In 2002 Powell was at a crossroads in which many young people find themselves: facing her 30th birthday and feeling like she had not lived up to her potential. As shown on screen, despite being married to a very nice guy, Eric (Chris Messina), Powell has no direction. A college graduate who was apparantly a very good student, she find herself underemployed as a calltaker at a New York center handling issues related to the 9-11 disaster. She has no power and must listen to a barrage of complaints and sad stories all day. It's enough to make anyone depressed. Add to that, she and Eric can only afford to live in a tiny apartment over a pizza parlor. Meanwhile, all of her college friends (which whom she masochistically endures regular lunches) have gone on to great career success and treat her like a poor, sad relation. Julie, who once aspired to be a writer, has nothing to show for that dream but one unfinished novel.
One thing Powell likes to do is cook, so she issue a personal challenge to herself to cook every single recipe in Julia Child's mammoth cookbook (524 recipes) in one year. Eric suggests she take the project a step further by blogging about it (in the movie she gets the idea to blog first, but in real life blogging was secondary to the experiment). The film shows how Julie becomes obsessed by Julia Child, reading all about her life as well as her cooking. The experiment yields some culinary ups and downs, but in the end, she succeeds in cooking every Child recipe and in having a hugely successful blog that spawns a professional writing career and this film.
The movie intercuts Julie Powell's experiment with the story of Julia Child, taking place mainly in France during the 1950s. One can see why Julie Powell felt a kinship with Child. Both were childless, married to wonderful and supportive men, in love with fine food, and looking for direction in their lives. Child, a Smith graduate who had once been a clerk for the OSS, arrives in Paris in the late 1940s when her husband, Paul (Stanley Tucci), is assigned to the U.S. embassy. Financially, she has no need to work, but she is bored with many of the matronly duties of other embassy wives. Fascinated by French culture, and especially French cuisine, Child enrolls in the all-male Le Cordon Bleu cooking school and blows away skeptics with her fearlessness. She soon becomes a cooking teacher herself and along with two French friends, writes a French cookbook for Americans that will transform the cookbook industry. Her later career as a pioneering TV personality is reflected only through taped shows that Powell studies.
As portrayed in the film (and in real life), Child was indeed fearless and funloving. The title of her cookbook was apt, as she was totally dedicated to the art of cooking as well as to the proper instruction of it. She and her co-writers toiled for eight years to produce the cookbook, carefully testing recipes and revising wording to make sure the text was useful for its intended audience. This was a labor of love and obsession, much like French cooking itself. There should be no shortcuts (a point well-made when one potential publisher insists the length of the tome be cut and recipes simplified for modern cooks who prefer working with boxed mixes). Not surprisingly, in 2003, when the nearly 90-year-old Child was informed about the buzz surrounding Powell's project, she is said to have dismissed it as "disrespectful" and "not serious." It is to Powell's credit that she neverlet this lack of admiration by her idol dim her own spirit. In fact, to this day Powell still talks about Child with an air of reverence and mist in her eye.
If critics think Powell stacks up unfairly when measured against Child, then they get the point of the movie and of Powell's experience. None of us can dare measure up to our idols. Julia Child was an original and trailblazer. That is why Powell admired her. By taking on the daunting task of cooking every recipe in the book in a year, Powell came to admire Child even more. French cooking (heck, any REAL cooking) is hard and time-consuming (since Powell worked until 6 p.m. and many of these recipes were time consuming, she and Eric often didn't eat until after midnight). It requires dedication and artistry, just as with other creative efforts, like writing.
It is no wonder that during the course of the experiment, Powell finally became the professional writer she always wanted to be. As she herself has said, the experiment gave her focus for the first time. Lest anyone think that Powell is just a second-rate blogger who lucked out with a gimmick, it should also be noted that she has since won two prestigious James Beard awards for writing about food (the Beards are considered "the Oscars of the food world," according to Time magazine). She may not be Julia Child, but she has a talent that might never have been tapped without the inspiration of Julia Child.
So, in addition to being a fun, inspiring film worthy of a Saturday night out, Julie & Julia also offers something else: reminders that sometimes we need to challenge ourselves to find out what we are made of, and that we can look to amazing women who have gone before us for inspiration. For some, this might be cooking 524 recipes in 365 days. For others, it might be training for a marathon, losing 100 lbs., or completing a novel. Whatever it is, the challenge is worth it, because if you stick to it, you just might find it opens up new possibilities in life that you never knew existed. As Julia Child might say, life is a banquet, so bon appetit!
Yours in Sisterhood - VB
*The Henhouse Movie Rating System:
Four kernels – An exceptional film worth paying for a babysitter to see in the theater, or worth staying up late to watch on DVD after the kids have gone to bed and devoting your full attention to.
Three kernels – A good film that has many entertaining elements and might be worth seeing in the theater if you have a free babysitting offer from relatives or renting to watch while folding the laundry.
Two kernels – A so-so movie that might be worth seeing if it happens to be on cable and you want something to take your mind off washing dishes without thinking too hard.
One kernel – A bad film only worth watching if you need an unintentional laugh or if it’s the only decent thing you can find on free TV while breastfeeding at 2 a.m.
Zero kernels – A film SO awful you should avoid at all costs; yes, worse than watching even a bad infomercial for the 20th time while breastfeeding at 2 a.m.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Movie of the Week: Julie & Julia---French cooking, Focus, and Food
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