Over the years, we've seen Meryl Streep survive a Nazi concentration camp. expose the hazards of nuclear power, operate an African coffee farm, dominate the fashion world and negiotate the challenges of eternal life. But can she lead a bar band? Of course she can: She's Meryl Streep. And she rocks with conviction in director Jonathan Demme's Ricki and the Flash.
We even get Meryl Unplugged midway through the movie, as she strums an acoustic guitar and sings a lovely song titled "Cold One." Ricki and the Flash has some echoes of Demme's Rachel Getting Married, although this is far less harrowing to sit through than that Anne Hathaway squirm-a-thon.
Streep plays RickiRandazzo, who cashiers every day at a snooty Los Angeles grocery store called Total Foods, screenwriter Diablo Cody's parody of Whole Foods Market. At night, though, at The Salt Well, a San Fernando Valley bar where she rocks out as a sort of third-rate Bonnie Raitt, alongside fellow guitarist and sometime boyfriend Greg, played by '80s heartthrob Rick Springfield.
Ricki is like millions of other aspiring musicians: good enough to get hired, but not talented or lucky enough to get that elusive Big Break. But a phone call from her ex-husband Pete pulls Ricki back into her former life.
Once upon a time in the '80s, she was a well-to-do mom and corporate wife In Indianapolis, with three kids and a husband named Pete, played by Kevin Kline, Streep's co-star from Sophie's Choice. Pete is still a straight-laced, buttoned-down suburbanite workaholic, although now he has a spotless McMansion and a somewhat messy history with Ricki.
Ricki's daughter Julie, played by Streep's real-life daughter Mamie Gummer, is shell-shocked after being dumped by her husband, and Pete thinks Ricki might help her come back from her emotional tailspin. But reintegrating yourself into a family is tough work, and Ricki finds herself torn between her new identity and the comfortable world she ditched in order to chase her dream of stardom.
Cody's screenplay dodges most of the soap operatics that often seep into stories like this and she incorporates some clever ideas, such as Ricki turning out to be a conservative Republican, despite her leather outfits and party-princess swagger. Streep and Gummer play off of each other easily and believably, and Kline is very good as the somewhat hapless, helpless man in the middle.
As Pete's new wife, Broadway legend Audra McDonald gets maximum dramatic mileage out of a handful of scenes, and her long-in-the-works confrontation with Ricki is smartly written and smoothly played.
The biggest problem with Ricki and the Flash is not what's in the movie, but what seems to have been left out. Although what we get is a pleasant, occasionally touching comedy-drama that doesn't go down entirely predictable paths, sometimes you can't help but wish there was a little more substance.
While Cody doesn't milk this situation for melodrama, she also leaves us with many questions about everyone's motivations and attitudes. What was it that made Ricki walk away from her family? Why did Pete summon her back from L.A. without Julie's blessing?
It's hard to knock any movie in which Meryl Streep and Kevin Kline get stoned to eat cookie dough and listen to Electric Light Orchestra's "Laredo Tornado." And, for the most part, Ricki and the Flash is an enjoyable, occasional touching comedy-drama with a strong soundtrack. It's just kind of a shame the movie doesn't have as much character as its leading lady.
