This week we watched "Julie and Julia" on pay-per-view. As it happens, I have read both books upon which the movie is based ("Julie & Julia," by Julie Powell, and "My Life in France," by Julia Child). Reviews noted that the movie dealt with Ms. Powell a little more forgivingly than she did herself in her book, and I found it to be so. Amy Adams is reliably adorable and Meryl Streep is ... well, the greatest living American actress.
The books, as books do, got deeper into the characters than any movie could. More back story, more tangents, more sense of place, more details. But a good movie transcends its own limitations. I found this one very entertaining, very touching (the scene in which Julia & Paul Child learn that her sister is pregnant - they were never able to have children - is quick, almost a throwaway, but so wrenching!), and ... not the least bit inspiring! I have no desire to master the art of French cooking!
I may have mentioned that my kitchen style is along the lines of the Food Network show "Chopped." What random assortment of ingredients are in my kitchen? Okay, I'll cook something with that! Kind of ridiculous, but also kind of fun, and rarely a disaster. Most of the time, my cooking is so simple that nobody could screw it up.
I would have been happy to have the movie just a little bit longer. We didn't really get to see the meals come together, and let's face it, half the appeal of a cooking show is looking at the pristine ingredients before everything starts, and then at the beautifully presented end result.
My favorite scene was probably the one in which the gorgeous chocolate-hazelnut gateau comes out and is demolished, no need for slicing and serving, by Powell's supportive but suffering husband. That one really conveys the true genius of Julia Child: her gift for sharing her enormous appetite for life.
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