Mamma Mia!: My Big, Lame Greek Wedding

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Remember the movie There’s Something About Mary?  As the credits rolled, the cast was featured vamping to the song “Build Me Up Buttercup.”  Since then, it’s been the lazy way to end a “wacky summer comedy.”  It’s been used countless times.  Do you love it when they do that?  Have you ever wished (dare I say, dreamed) of the day that there might be a whole movie of nothing but that?  Then Mamma Mia was tailor made for you.

Let’s get one thing straight.  I like musicals.  Grease, Singing In The Rain, The Little Mermaid?  Yes, yes and yes.  I’m not one of those guys that thinks musicals are for chicks or men of a different…shall we say “orientation.”  I played an orphan (willingly!) in Oliver when I was a kid.  I like musicals, ok?

But this was painful.  This is one of those movies where it looks like the cast was having so much fun that they forgot to make a good movie.  It’s like the Cannonball Run II of chick flicks. 

The action takes place in one of those scenic Greek fishing villages (only found in movies) that is populated entirely by people that speak English.  Sophie (Amanda Seyfried) is getting married.  She wants her father to give her away.  However, her mother (Meryl Streep) has never revealed who her father is.  But Sophie has narrowed down the candidates to three possible men (Pierce Brosnan, Stellan Skarsgård and Colin Firth) and she invites them all to the wedding in the hopes that she’ll be able to determine which her father is.

Meryl Streep is visited by two of her old friends whose only purpose seems to be giggling and screaming their lines.  Oh, and of course, singing back up.  I’m not sure what they were going for with the singing, because it seems that virtually nobody in this movie can actually sing.  Streep is passable and Amanda Seyfried has a good voice but that’s about it. 

There’s a scene in the movie where Streep sings karaoke with her two friends at a bar.  What?  I thought this was karaoke?  We are now doing karaoke within karaoke.  This is like one of those Chinese boxes that you open only to find another box inside.

The timeline of this movie makes absolutely no sense.  Streep is portrayed as an aging flower child.  When they flashback to show Streep’s suitors, two of them appear to be hippies and one of them appears to be an 80’s heavy metal guy.  He’s referred to as “Head Banging” Harry.  So, how does she have a twenty year-old daughter?  The premise of the movie is that Sophie was the result of a youthful summer fling during the heady days of free love.  Using that logic, Sophie should be Streep’s granddaughter.

At one point in the film, Streep gives a speech about how her mother was so shocked when she discovered her pregnancy that she kicked her out of the house and told her she was on her own.  I think Streep might have judged her mother too harshly.  She didn’t get kicked out of the house because she was pregnant; she got kicked out because she was THIRTY FIVE!

The choreography in this film is horrific.  The whole thing looks like a Dr. Pepper commercial (think “I’m a Pepper, he’s a Pepper”).  I’ve seen better choreography at dance recitals.  The production numbers in this film are so bad that I actually went to IMDB to see if the movie even had a choreographer.  Amazingly, it does.  To illustrate his importance, he is listed third to last in the crew credits ahead of only the “Assistant Production Coordinator” and “Meryl Streep’s Assistant”.  And he’s the only person created with choreography for the entire film.  By comparison, a movie like Chicago has seven different people with “choreographer” in their title.  At one point in the movie, the dancing consists of people doing the “Penguin Walk.”

Honest to God, a penguin walk.

You know, where people stand in a straight line…and walk…like penguins.

The last ten minutes of the movie consists of the cast in Elvis-y jumpsuits singing songs on an empty soundstage.  Wow!  The only way a movie musical could get lazier was if we walked in to the theater only to find that the screen had been replaced by a boom-box playing the soundtrack.

Finally facing my Waterloo, indeed.

I’d like to end with a thought for each of the leads.

To Meryl Streep: Look on the bright side.  You can finally cross She-Devil off the top of the “Worst-Movies-I’ve-Ever-Done” list.  And I’m sure there are people that have always wondered what a multi-Oscar nominee looks like when they sing into their hairbrush while getting dressed.  And seeing as how Katherine Hepburn is dead, you were their only shot.  Those people thank you…both of them.

To Amanda Seyfried: You’re a young kid just getting started.  Nobody is going to blame you for this movie.  You’re on Big Love and that show is actually good.  Just keep reminding yourself: Michelle Pfeiffer was in Grease 2.

To Peirce Brosnan: Good Lord, man!  You were James Bond!  Have some dignity.  What were you thinking?  Is this what awaits all future Bonds?  Campy, jukebox musicals?  Will my children one day be subjected to Daniel Craig starring in My Humps: The Musical?  If they are, history will not judge you kindly, sir.

On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo and 10 Grease, Mamma Mia gets a 4.

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