Meryl hasn't really done a good sci-fi pic. Yes, there's The Giver, but that ended up being kind of a stinker. I had included Close Encounters of the Third Kind in the early stages of my recasting project, but inserted her into a supporting role. I'm reminded of Sigourney Weaver's legacy as an action star, having starred in the Alien series, the second of which (Aliens) was directed by James Cameron. I never really got into that movie, but from a young age, I absolutely loved both of his Terminator films, as well as 1989's underwater flick, The Abyss. There's something about the latter film that really captures the feel of what I liked about action movies at the time. There was a fair amount of technology utilized, and the setting was something we'd never really seen before at that level. Yet at the same time, we also get some intimacy and complexity surrounding the close-knit cast of characters who are thrust into the tumultuous scenario driving the film's more entertaining scenes.
The film follows a crew oil workers who are tasked by the government to aid a SEAL team in recovering a nuclear warhead at the bottom of the ocean. Dr. Lindsey Brigman is the designer of the drilling platform utilized as a base for the operation. It's a bit of a tired trope to have the lady professional depicted as the queen bitch of the universe. But it's probably a fun character to play. Someone who's smarter than everyone else in the room and doesn't suffer fools or a slow pace. Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio (such a name from the 80s) does a fine job in the role, if perhaps a bit one level in the first half of the film. There are some fun moments of tension and humor between her soon-to-be ex-husband, Bud (Ed Harris), who's the foreman of the rig.
One of the most memorable moments of cinema from my childhood was watching Lindsey's drowning scene. After Lindsey and Bud are left with only one oxygen tank in a rapidly flooding sub, Lindsey insists Bud use it so he can drag her hypothermic body back to the rig and resuscitate her.
Watching it as an adult, it's a tad far-fetched. From my understanding, using an automated external defibrillator is generally only indicated when someone's heart is beating irregularly, not to "shock it back" to life. CPR would be the usual approach, which they do implement here as well. Some definite artistic license here, but played well for dramatic effect. It's a powerful scene and beautifully acted. The actors create a great sense of collegiality in their reactions to Lindsey eventually coming around. I have to imagine drowning would be one of the most horrible ways to die. The feeling of having to finally take in a breath and only having water enter your lungs? Super scary. And it feels super scary for Lindsey in this scene. Would've been fun to see how Meryl played it. I did tend to wonder why Lindsey didn't seem more affected after the fact, considering Bud was basically beating the shit out of her when she lay there on the submersible deck. Her ribs and chest would've been so sore, I imagine it would've made her ability to speak normally very difficult in the days following. Lindsey seems to have recovered pretty well when she's guiding Bud down the Cayman Trough, based on the way Mastrantonio plays it.
This film is so stamped in my mind as sort of encapsulating the feel of several movies in the genre around the late 80s and early 90s. Terminator 2: Judgement Day is a big one, as I eluded above, Die Hard, even Rocky IV, with its capitalizing on Cold War tensions between the United States and the Soviet Union (although interesting that The Abyss is set in 1994 when there actually was no longer such a thing as the U.S.S.R.). I don't know if it was just a style around the time, or maybe that The Abyss has so many scenes underwater, but everything has a blue-like tinge to it, particularly in scenes without natural lighting, that seem very reminiscent of the time. It's easy to forget that The Abyss isn't just an action film. There's an alien marine life that ends up saving Bud at the bottom of the ocean. Some of the greatest special effects for the time were employed for this film (it won the Oscar for it that year), particularly the face-mimicking water formation into which the alien choses to take shape. The idea of there being technology that allows humans to breathe water to minimize the effects of the oceans pressure was always a cool prospect to think about, even as an adult.
It's interesting that in Meryl's real filmography, 1989 marked a very distinct shift in the type of movie in which we usually saw her. She-Devil may have some fun tidbits, but in general, it's not a strong movie. This was the first time Streep took on a true comedy role, which she ended up doing more of over the next few years in the early 90s. I wonder if she had taken the risk of participating in something like The Abyss, would it have resulted in a major difference in what we could've expected from her shortly afterward, or what she would've been offered? The Abyss wasn't a huge box-office success, but it did fairly well with critics, and I think it's often considered an underrated movie these days. From what I've read, filming under James Cameron was extremely difficult for the cast. But maybe it could've been the same kind of physical toil Meryl had to endure when she learned how to white water raft in 1994's The River Wild. I'd take her in The Abyss over that or She-Devil any day.
As I mentioned at the end of my final "official" selection of this project, I'm going to add a series of five entries that sort of encapsulate what has historically appealed to me about cinema. The more I think and write about Meryl Streep's career on screen, the more I'm reminded of how I got here. It's no accident how I ended up latching on to someone who's able to portray such a wide variety of characters. In Meryl, I get to vicariously experience worlds that I, almost without realizing, have loved imagining from an early age.
The fact that many of the films that have shaped my taste in cinema also happen to showcase interesting and complex women is also probably not a surprise, considering where my interests obviously lie now. The 1988 CBS miniseries, Bluegrass, is one such example. Directed by Simon Wincer (Free Willy), I was eight at the time this was released, and from my first viewing I was in love. When it was replayed a couple of years later, after my family had acquired its first VCR, I managed to realize it in time to record the second half. I damn near wore that tape out over the years. Not until well into my 30s, perhaps after finding a clip on YouTube, did I acquire a bootleg DVD copy woefully transferred from VHS. The scenes from part one were surprisingly fresh in my memory.
I should probably clarify that this miniseries didn't necessarily shape my taste in movies, so much as it was one of the things I watched over and over. Maybe it's more accurate that my interest in it more showcased what I liked, and the kind of lives I enjoyed seeing captured on screen. To some degree, I've found in looking back that it's often what I think I've enjoy about seeing such a wide variety of people and worlds portrayed in Streep films. In Bluegrass, we follow Maude Breen, a widow who heads back to her native Kentucky to get a fresh start. She buys a rundown farm and is considered a bit of an outsider, as her neighbor is a high-profile thoroughbred breeder and judge (Wayne Rogers), who also just happens to be someone who tried to rape her as a teen. She sparks a romance with her alcoholic farm manager (Brian Kerwin), and navigates a love triangle involving him and a charming Irishman (Anthony Andrews--bizarrely with an English accent), who ends up almost destroying her farm by introducing a diseased mare into the fold.
It was all very sophisticated to my young brain. I've watched it multiple times as an adult (still waiting for a high-quality version) and that sense of adult intrigue has of course softened a bit. But I still think it's a very entertaining and well-acted production for network television in the 80s. No doubt there's a nostalgic aspect in it for me. It does hearken back to the tropes of wealth and excess so often displayed in that decade (thinking Dallas and Dynasty), though Bluegrass feels less crass about it, even to this day.
I always thought Cheryl Ladd was so pretty. And Brian Kerwin is a dreamboat. I'm reminded of the great supporting turn of Mickey Rooney. Also that of Diane Ladd (no relation), who although not shown in the video, has some of the best one-liners among the large cast of characters. There are next to no clips out there of this film, but in these few scenes, we get to see a bit of the moxie in Maude's character. It's perhaps a bit overdone on occasion, but I like the conflicts of her trying to hold her own in a very male-dominated world. That wasn't necessarily depicted with regularity at the time. Of course there was like zero chance Meryl was ever going to star in something like this. And I don't think it's realistic to imagine she ever would've if the timing had just been right. That doesn't stop me from the imagining how she may have interpreted certain scenes, perhaps adding her two cents in regard to certain aspects of the script where she could've imbued some more complexity or gravitas to the character and her history. She also would've gotten to ride horses and try her hat at a Kentucky accent. It's a shame the series didn't garner any strong critical or awards attention. Although Wincer is credited with bolstering the popularity of the miniseries with his following year's highly successful project, Lonesome Dove.
These days, I tend to think horse racing is a bit of a barbaric business. More and more we hear about animals having to be euthanized on the track due to injury. Of course I didn't think about things like that at the time Bluegrass was released. And I still like to tune in the first Saturday of May each year to watch the two most exciting minutes in sports. For years I collected model horses, which as an adult seems WAY gayer than I ever considered as a preteen. My interest was boosted when my uncle bought a pair of Arabians for his farm, and he arranged for some riding lessons for me and my cousins. I'm not sure if the series was really the catalyst for an interest in horses, or more that I watched it on repeat because the interest was already there. Either way, I'm still drawn to the allure of that gentile setting depicted on the ranches of Bluegrass. Does anyone reading this know someone at CBS who can finally get us a decent-quality copy to view? If so, kindly send them my way.
Exactly one year ago today, I posted my first selection in this recasting project. I hadn't planned to make it such a tidy timeline. But last week, when I thought about how close I was to the end, I decided to look back and check just what the date actually was. It's sort of a nice button to put on this whole thing. My intent in making my selections was to pick roles that diverge from things we've seen Meryl do before, many of which were from films that happen to be special to me in one way or another. After fifty-two weeks and forty-five films, I hope I've done the process justice.
And what a film to end with. It's been only a little over a month since the drama Nomadland took home the big prize at the Oscars, along with a Best Director award for Chloé Zhao, and a third win for Frances McDormand in Best Actress. McDormand plays Fern, a woman in Nevada who's husband has recently died, and who loses her job after the gypsum plant in her town shuts down. She decides to purchase a van and essentially become a nomad, taking temporary or seasonal work where she can. She travels to Arizona to join up with a community of other nomads, learning how to survive with very little.
The film was based on the nonfiction book of the same name, which follows how older Americans during the Great Recession (around 2008) adopted transient lifestyles. Many folks found themselves out of work and close to retirement, and decided to reject the usual nine-to-five of corporate America to hit the road and explore the vastness of the American landscape. Several of the real-life people depicted in the book portray themselves in the film. Fern eventually befriends a fellow nomad named Dave (David Strathairn), whom she ends up visiting at his son's home. Dave reveals his feelings for Fern, and offers to let her stay with him and his family for good. Fran declines and ends up returning to the Arizona community. It's here toward the end that we get a more intimate glimpse into how she got to where she is now.
There are some similarities in the tone of this film and that of Ironweed. Maybe it's because I'm not a person who's even remotely interested in abandoning certain creature comforts, but I found myself a bit anxious throughout both films. Fern's situation is far less dire than Helen's, yet there's a certain underlying melancholy felt around both women's existences. I don't get the sense that Fran necessarily wants to live the life of a nomad. She was more compelled in some way in the aftermath of her husband's death, and the loss of her both her town and job. McDormand does a great job with the complexity of that. She's pulled in different directions. She's got the support, encouragement, and validation from her fellow nomads. Then there's her sister, and residents of her former town who are perplexed and put off by her choice to live the way she is. Again, it's a job well done by McDormand, for example, when explaining to a friend that she's not "homeless," just "houseless." There are nuances in those sorts of uncomfortable interactions that would fun to see Meryl play.
I like the theme of not waiting until you're too old or decrepit to actually live a little. Granted, some might not consider the life depicted in Nomadland as a particularly attractive one, but it is to the folks who embrace it. I suppose each of us has some ideal concept or vision of what life can be like like beyond the toil of what's required of us to earn a living. It may not be in a van, but it's somewhere or something.
The film was an overwhelming critical success (94% on Rotten Tomatoes and 93 score on Metacritic). It's cinematography is stunning, and even more impressive considering how bleak some of the scenes likely seemed to be on paper. McDormand's Oscar win may have surprised a few people. It was one of those years where I could have seen four of the five nominees legitimately coming away with a win. With hers, McDormand became only the second woman to ever win three lead acting trophies at the Academy Awards (Katharine Hepburn has four). I'm not super interested in analyzing what it means (if anything) for Meryl's legacy. Streep could still win another one...or two. So could McDormand. I tend to think McDormand's second win only three years ago for Three Billboards Outside of Ebbing, Missouri should have one hundred percent gone to Sally Hawkins for The Shape of Water.
But we could go down that endless rabbit hole of who did and who should've all day long. It doesn't help answer the question of who the better actor is (if that's even an answerable thing). It's perplexing that Bette Davis, for example, has only two Oscars, while Hepburn has four. I wouldn't put up much of a fuss if someone used that example as a fair comparison of Streep and McDormand's film careers thus far. In the end, I'm just glad to see such great films getting made that showcase women (particularly women of a certain age demographic). It raises the question of whether Meryl might find herself producing more projects in the future the way McDormand does. Places, Please may be the start of that.
While this is officially the last entry in my recasting cannon for Meryl, in the coming weeks, I'll be posting about five films that I'll consider an "addendum" to the current list. The selections cover a brief stretch of time that, looking back, sort of shaped my taste in cinema, and that all happened (not surprisingly in retrospect) to include memorable roles for women. And stay tuned in the future for when I do a full recasting of supporting performances! Until then, I'll leave you with the full list of lead roles from the past year of this project. My great admiration goes out to all the monumentally talented performers who originated the roles listed below.
1976: Hester Street (Gitl)
1977: Close Encounters of the Third Kind (Jillian Guiler)
1978: Julia (Julia)
1979: The Rose (Mary Rose Foster)
1980: American Gigolo (Michelle Stratton)
1981: Reds (Louise Bryant)
1982: Frances (Frances Farmer)
1983: Romancing the Stone (Joan Wilder)
1984: A Passage to India (Adela Quested)
1985: Agnes of God (Dr. Martha Livingston)
1986: Crimes of the Heart (Rebecca Magrath/Babe Botrell)
1987: Anna (Anna)
1988: Gorillas in the Mist (Dian Fossey)
1989: Dangerous Liaisons (Marquise Isabelle de Merteuil)
This selection was both easy and tough at the same time. Way back in 2012, I posted a Wish List entry where I suggested how fun it would be to see Meryl star in a feature film about the Russian empress, Catherine the Great. I've long been fascinated by the political changes that swept Western civilization in the latter half of the 18th century. The French Revolution, the United States winning its independence from Britain's mad king George III. And of course, Russia emerging as a modern European power. The Age of Enlightenment brought forth incredible advances in free thought, scientific discovery, and the separation of church and state. Important stuff in my view.
After 2005's Elizabeth I, Nigel Williams was apparently interested in writing another limited series for Helen Mirren. The latter of the two would focus on the powerful, and historically maligned, Catherine II. On the surface, one might think it's just another costume drama involving a royal court. I admit, there are definite similarities when comparing Mirren's roles of Elizabeth and Catherine. But as Mirren herself has said in interviews, they're very different personalities, and their reigns took place two centuries apart. Elizabeth's character showed extremes of joy, jealousy and rage. Catherine, while no stranger to strong emotion, seemed to rule a bit more with her head than her heart. With it, she held enormous power in Russia. It's such an interesting paradox, this idea of what I've read termed 'enlightened despotism.' Catherine had usurped her husband's throne after orchestrating his death. And despite all her progressive interests and education, she ruled as an absolute monarch.
The four-part HBO series starts when Catherine is supposed to be around 35, not long after she assumed control of the throne. Obviously that's a bit of a stretch for Mirren (or Meryl), but we sort of forget about that with depictions of people from so long ago. I've actually watched the series twice at this point. In my more recent viewing, I enjoyed it more than I remembered. I had such high hopes for a project featuring Catherine the Great that I was initially disappointed in my first viewing by what felt like a truncated telling of her last two decades of rule. I feel like the project could've been better served by an additional one to two episodes. There's so much to cover. The Russo-Turkish wars, the annexation of Crimea, the volatile relationship she has with her son regarding the question of succession. And of course, her many male suitors. Mirren comments in a separate interview how one of her goals in taking on this role was to help reshape Catherine's legacy. There's a stench of misogyny in many historians' accounts of Catherine, particularly in regard to the fact she was known to enjoy sex. Imagine that. And no, she never fucked a horse.
One of the main differences I notice between this series and Elizabeth I is the production value. The scenes, cinematography, and costumes are all stunning and expensive-looking. While perhaps a bit dark, we get a good feel for the northern climate and dimness of imperial palaces. A large arc of Catherine's character involves her relationship with Grigory Potemkin, finely played by Jason Clarke. The relationship was a tumultuous one, as there was this constant sense of dissatisfaction on Potemkin's part over not ever really being able to hold the power he envied in Catherine, and her clear reminders that any of his successes are only because of her.
Helen Mirren is a brilliant actor. But I struggle to get a good sense of the passage of time as it pertains to her portrayal, aside from the increased grey we see in her hair. Only toward the very end do we see a sad, paranoid change in the empress, even to the point that she overseas the burning of books that espouse ideas that may threaten her power. There's also the question of language. Much like The Last Station, this is a period piece that takes place in Russia, where most, if not all the actors speak with a British accent. I understand it's not reasonable to shoot the whole thing with the cast speaking Russian or French or German. But I still wonder how that question may have been handled if Meryl had been in the lead role. I think it may have helped the whole production feel a little less like it was produced by the BBC.
Critical reception was decent. The series holds a 68% on Rotten Tomatoes and score of 61 on Metacritic, indicating "generally favorable" reviews. The writing isn't exactly inspired, but the acting and set design make it worth the watch. Mirren managed to score a Golden Globe nomination for Best Actress in a Miniseries or TV Film. The award that year went to a very deserving Michelle Williams in Fosse/Verdon.
Catherine the Great was a complex woman ruling a large country in a rapidly changing world. It's a shame some of the intrigue of her life is dampened by the imperfections of this series. But I think it's still worth the watch. Can't believe we're already coming around to the final selection of this project next week!
The first time I saw The Wife in the fall of 2018, I came away pleasantly surprised. Buzz had been swirling around Glenn Close since the film premiered at the Tonto Film Festival a year earlier. I know there are a lot of people who don't think her performance or the role itself was all that special. But I happen to be a huge fan of both Close's performance and the film, and would've loved to see Meryl interpret the character of Joan Castleman.
Jonathan Pryce plays the "the husband," Joe Castleman, who's recently been awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature. Joan's not exactly thrilled about it, because at it turns out, she's the one who's actually written all of Joe's books over the years. We get flashbacks to the late 50s, when Joan was a student in one of Joe's classes. When he receives criticism for the quality of his novel, Joan ends of editing it, turning it to a best-seller. And so it went for the Castlemens over the years, all leading up to their trip to Stockholm for Joe's acceptance of a prize that should've gone to his wife.
That would be such a great scene to play. I expect anyone in this role would have their work cut out for them in regard to how much emotion they have to hold back. From the beginning, Joan is in a strange spot. Yes, there is excitement about the honor her husband is getting, and maybe even a sense of some validation in knowing that the work--mostly of her doing--is getting recognized on such a large stage. Then there's the resentment one would no doubt experience in having to watch someone else get all the credit. We get a sense of that building as the film progresses.
Christian Slater plays biographer Nathaniel Bone, who travels to Stockholm in an attempt to get some inside info on Joe. He reveals to Joan over drinks and cigarettes that he suspects that she has indeed been the real creator of Joe's very successful string of novels. In this scene as well, it's a fine line Joan walks. She considers Nathaniel an opportunistic pest, and denies his suggestions. But at the same time, one can't help but get a sense that she likes the fact that someone might understand she's the real literary genius, not her adulterous husband.
Of course, all these pent up feelings end up coming out in the film's climax, where Joan and Joe have it out back in their hotel room. This feels like the definition of an Oscar clip:
That left eye blink at 0:26 is pretty wild. This is great stuff from Close. She scored both Golden Globe and SAG wins for her performance, and was the odd-on favorite to take home her first Oscar statuette on her seventh nomination. Olivia Colman captured the gold that night for her splendid performance as Queen Anne in The Favourite. Hers was probably the only performance I was OK with triumphing over a long-overdue Glenn.
Critic responses to the film were favorable, with it holding a very solid 86% on Rotten Tomatoes and a 77 score on Metacritic. It's actually the kind of movie I can watch multiple times. I love the cozy feel surrounding the Nobel ceremony festivities, and the acting is world class. I'm still bummed that Close wasn't able to come away with a win for this. It's a wonderful, challenging role. Maybe it just paves the way for her to finally win the big one if she can manage to scrape together the funding for Sunset Boulevard.
This one was sort of a no-brainer. All the way back in 2014 when I posted my full Reimagined Filmography, I had wondered if there was a chance for Meryl to star alongside Susan Sarandon in the blacklisted script, Best Actress. Three years later, the story was expanded into an eight-episode series on FX. I added it to my Shoulda Coulda Wouldas tag in 2019, which at the time, I had thought would serve as my list of films to somehow try to go back and insert into the aforementioned reimagined history. I've already covered in an earlier post how the shear number of films in consideration became too much, sparking this new project.
Ryan Murphy apparently had Jessica Lange in mind to star opposite Sarandon early on. Lange had enjoyed enormous success following her starring roles in the first four seasons of American Horror Story. The role of Joan Crawford may not have seemed like the meatier part when held up to the larger-than-life character of Bette Davis. But I'd argue that Lange got to explore a wider range of emotions in trying to work out someone as complex and tragic as Crawford.
The story follows Crawford and Davis in the early 1960s, whereby that point, the two are basically has-beens in the film industry (they were in their mid 50s btw). Crawford aimed desperately for returning to the spotlight. Davis did too, in a way, but more from an aspect of just wanting to have good parts to play for the sake of the work itself. While the two were not huge fans of each other, Crawford understood that the only way she was going to get Warner Brothers to allow director Robert Aldrich to make Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? was if they had Bette Davis attached as well. Crawford was savvy that way, even if it may have singed the very fiber of her being to have to concede the necessity of doing so. The picture got made and was a huge box office success. But it did not result in a deluge of new offers afterward, and Davis got the majority of the critics' praise for her performance.
Aside from it making me want to smoke really bad, I think this may be my favorite scene of the entire series. We get a glimpse into the depravity of Crawford's childhood. In a way, it almost seems obvious that she would grow into a domineering mother whose insatiable quest for attention and validation only drives her to drink, and drives those she loves away. Kudos to Lange for her portrayal here. I think Meryl would have her work cut out for her to convey the kind of ruthless sophistication Lange manages to imbue into the role. I wish I could think of a better antonym for naive, because I'd use it to describe this character.
What's so nice about expanding this story beyond the making of Baby Jane is that we get to see the aftermath of these two women far beyond the time they spent together on set--although that's some of the best stuff. This clip is an interesting example of how these two women were essentially stars for slightly different reasons. Crawford much for her beauty, Davis for her talent. While I think Meryl happens to be gorgeous, she's not necessarily considered conventionally "pretty" by Hollywood standards. She knows it, and has used it to her advantage, not unlike Davis. Lange, as an actress, has certainly had more opportunities beyond the age of fifty than Crawford did. But Jessica, too, has historically been cast in roles that have often had at least an oblique connection to her sex appeal. It would be fun to see Meryl in that role in Feud.
The series was a great critical success for FX. It holds a 91% on Rotten Tomatoes and 81 on Metacritic, the latter of which is an supposed to be an indication of "universal acclaim." It received eighteen Emmy nominations, including for its two amazing leads. Sarandon and Lange were also both nominated for a Golden Globe (RIP) and SAG awards. Deservedly, supporting players Judy Davis, Jackie Hoffman, Alfred Molina, and Stanley Tucci were each recognized with multiple nominations as well.
Feud was originally meant to be an anthology series, with the first season more accurately titled Feud: Bette and Joan. The second series was going to follow the lives of Prince Charles and Princess Diana, but was scrapped before filming began. I wonder if after the success of Netflix's The Crown, FX thought the market would've been a bit too saturated with royals for their second season to be a hit. I, for one, kind of like that Feud: Bette and Joan stands alone.
Meryl Streep first met Spanish director Pedro Almodóvar on the awards circuit in 2003. Streep was getting regularly recognized for her work in The Hours and Adaptation, and Almodóvar for his film, Talk to Her. After Alice Munro's book of short stories, Runaway, was released in 2004, Almodóvar reached out to Streep about teaming up to make a film adaptation. In its original form, what we today know as Julieta was to be entitled Silence, with Streep playing the same character at ages 20, 40, and 60. Meryl would've been in her mid to late fifties by the time filming was to take place. Almodóvar recognized the creative license he would be taking by having one actor portray such a broad spectrum of ages, but he's been quoted as saying, "She deserves to be playing the three characters. With her, I wanted to make something Ingmar Bergman-like being Meryl. We know she can do every accent, and I think she can act every age too." That's quite the compliment from such an accomplished filmmaker.
Alas, Almodóvar reportedly never quite felt confident enough in his English, nor American culture, to do the script justice. He put off making the film until 2015, and when he did, he set it in Madrid and cast Spanish-speaking actors. He later claimed he felt bad for not telling Meryl beforehand. Almodóvar has since made his English language debut with 2020's short film, The Human Voice, starring Tilda Swinton.
But what if Almodóvar had, by 2015, felt ready to direct in English? And what if he'd still wanted Streep in the film, despite the script being different from what the two had intended ten years prior? All this sounds more akin to how I mull over my "Reimagined" filmography choices for Meryl, but I'm making an exception for this project, as I don't ever picture her being a reasonable replacement for the current version of Julieta. Were the script to be similar in regard the characters' life events, just set in the United States, for example, there might've been a window of opportunity for these two greats to have finally joined forces.
So...on to the movie. Almodóvar adapted three of Munro's short stories to form the screenplay. Julieta (in English it would've been Juliet) is about to move to Portugal with her boyfriend. But after she runs into a friend of her estranged daughter's (Antía, with whom we later learn shared a romantic relationship with the friend Julieta runs into), Julieta decides to stay in Madrid, renting an apartment in the same building she raised Antía. Julieta writes a journal detailing how she met Antía's father, Xoan, their relationship, his infidelity and death, and her experience of her daughter cutting her out of her life and attempts at reconnecting.
Now to the casting. Not unlike my thoughts on my recent recasting choice of The Debt, having some resemblance in actors for roles that are supposed to be the same person is a big deal to me. Jennifer Ehle is a spitting image of Meryl at a younger age, and has the chops to handle the younger version of Juliet.
Ehle and Streep are obviously older than Adriana Ugarte and Emma Suárez (the junior and senior versions of Julieta, respectively). At the same time, I don't think it's wildly unreasonable to have Juliet be, say 30, instead of 25 at the start of the flashback. She ages some fifteen years over the course of her arc, and Ehle would in that respect be totally passable for the character, as would Meryl--the two are almost exactly twenty years apart in age.
Again, as it pertains to a lead character, Meryl's role size would be similar to aforementioned films like One True Thing, The Devil Wears Prada, Julie & Julia, and August: Osage County (not to mention recasting selections like Fried Green Tomatoes and The Debt). They're borderline, or for other actresses, perhaps easily supporting roles. But for a performer of Streep's pedigree, it garners top billing and a lead push for awards.
Julieta made many top ten lists in the United States for Best Foreign Language film. It was nominated for the Palme d'Or at Cannes, and holds an 83% on Rotten Tomatoes and a score of 73 on Metacritic, both markers of strong critical support. Suárez had quite the year at the Goya Awards (Spain's national annual film awards), winning Best Actress for Julieta AND Best Supporting Actress for La Propera Pell (The Next Skin). I guess the idea of Meryl going lead for this role wouldn't have been that big of a stretch after all.
