Review of Florence Foster Jenkins (2016) by Jonathan D — 20 Aug 2016

First time writer Nicolas Martin and veteran director Stephen Frears have succeeded in walking a fine line in telling a story about a woman whose fame comes from being ridiculous - and presenting her in a comic but yet not mean spirited way.

Jenkins was known as the world's worst singer, and her surviving recordings are so howlingly bad, they make us all howl with laughter. She was wealthy enough to be able to promote herself, creating well attended concerts that culminated in a performance at Carnegie Hall. The authors tell the story through her husband, played by Hugh Grant, who knows she's a fraud, and whose motivations are uncertain and evolving. It his his own character arc which provides the backbone of the story.

It begins a bit slowly, just presenting events in the characters' lives as Florence chooses to return to singing - in a big way - hiring a famed vocal coach and promising accompanist to bring her to the heights she believes she is capable. off. Gradually, the complexity of the story and its themes emerge - Florence had her hopes of being a concert pianist dashed at an early age due to disease, her husband had hopes of being a great actor, but has come to acknowledge his own limitations, and the young pianist Cosme McMoon stays because he's paid so well, but fears that his own aspirations will be crushed because of his association with this insanely untalented performer.

The trio of actors delivers delightfully. It's maybe fifteen minutes into the film before Florence sings for the first time. There is anticipation like in a horror movie before the monster is finally revealed - and when it is, Streep delivers one hell of a monster that had the audience on the floor. I had wondered how the filmmakers would deal with Jenkin's voice - if they used original recordings, the sound quality would obviously seem artificial, and yet no one could capture her unique awfulness. But Streep does it. I'd love to have been a fly on the wall when Streep began working with a vocal coach to help her imitate Jenkins. Hugh Grant is just oily enough, just sympathetic enough, and he does hold the structure of the story together empathetically. Simon Helberg is the googly eyed accompanist McMoon who has no idea what he's getting into until it's too late, and he is real and funny, and we definitely feel his pain.