Reviewed by Neil Davey
Stars Meryl Streep, Pierce Brosnan, Colin Firth, Julie Walters, Stellan Skarsgård, Christine Baranski,
Dominic Cooper, Amanda Seyfried, Hemi Yeroham, Rachel McDowall | Written by Catherine Johnson
UK certification PG | UK RRP £21.99 | DVD Region 2 | Runtime 105 minutes | Directed by Phyllida Lloyd
Mamma Mia! ... my, my, how can I resist you? Well, being both heterosexual and the proud owner of testicles, very easily. But there is a dilemma as far as this film version of the blockbusting stage show of the smash hit songs of Abba is concerned. How do we review it?
Here at Screenjabber Mansions, we pride ourselves on remaining honest about films — but we also like to acknowledge the importance of pure entertainment. I will happily agree with anyone about the flaws, holes and deep-set problems of, say, Independence Day. But I will also argue, until the cows come home / the wine runs out, that it's a perfectly acceptable piece of eye candy / brain popcorn / entertaining fluff. Dumb movies have a place. Bad movies can be acceptable in the right circumstances. To that end, I will cheerfully acknowledge that Mamma Mia! is utterly, UTTERLY critic proof and is undoubtedly entertaining. It's a love letter to Greece, it's enjoyable hokum, it's Independence Day with Abba songs instead of aliens. If that was the scale I'd call it "feelgood fun", slap four stars on its perky little bottom and send it on its merry way. But I wouldn't be doing my job properly if I didn't add one more thing to that list: Mamma Mia is one of the most shambolic, amateurish films you will ever see.
It's a mess. Lloyd, who directed the original theatrical production, has the box office receipts to prove she knows what she's doing. In the theatre. On the screen, she hasn't a clue. Less is more is the relatively simple rule, Phyllida. Less is more. Camp can work, of course: hell, I gave Hairspray five stars and subsequent viewing(s) on DVD haven't changed my opinion one iota. But you need experience and style to carry it off and Lloyd regrettably has neither. The story, in case you're one of the five people in the Northern Hemisphere that haven't seen the show (yes, "show" — I refuse to call it a musical) is surprisingly good. A young girl Sophie (Seyfried) is getting married on the idyllic Greek island she and her mum, Donna (Streep) call home. The only disappointment is that Sophie has never known who her dad is and Donna's not telling. However, Sophie has found her mum's old diary and discovered that, 20 years ago, Donna had three flings: Sam (Brosnan), Harry (Firth) and Bill (Skarsgård). Any of them could be Sophie's dad so Sophie does what any sensible girl would do. She asks her mum and... nah, only kidding. She writes to the men and invites them to the wedding, figuring that, as soon as she meets them, she'll know which one is her dad. Only she doesn't. And their presence, particularly Sam's, throws up all sorts of old emotions for Donna.
There is, for sure, a decent film to be had from that plot. This, though, isn't it. Streep cannot do wacky. Seyfried comes on like Broadway Barbie. Brosnan doesn't so much sing as look like he's trying to pass something: a cactus, most likely, given the expression. Baranski dances like a carthorse. For all they get to do, Firth and Skarsgård might as well have stayed in London. The songs are not so much slipped in as forced in with a mallet and held in place with gaffer tape: Streep, who's a decent singer, delivers a killer, vitriolic version of The Winner Takes It All at Brosnan which makes no bleeding sense in the circumstances. As for Julie Walters attempting to seduce Stellan Skarsgård to the strains of Take A Chance On Me, well, it's among the most disturbing cinematic images I've ever seen. And yes, I am including Zombie Holocaust in that equation.
And you know what? None of it matters. Millions will see it, millions will buy and rent it, millions will love it, millions will be earned and good luck to 'em. The crying shame is that there's one moment, during Dancing Queen, where everything gels so suddenly and spectacularly you're sure they've finally grasped the point. They haven't. Two minutes later it's all going wrong again and you're left wondering just how great it clearly could have been. Well, assuming you're a cynical old film critic.
EXTRAS *** The first special feature is "karaoke-mode" (actually called "sing-along" in the menu) in which the words are displayed on the screen during the musical numbers so that you can sing along with the movie — if you really, really must. You also get an audio commentary with director Phyllida Lloyd, deleted scenes and outtakes, a making-of featurette, a deleted musical number (The Name of The Game), three other featurettes (Anatomy of a Musical Number, Becoming a Singer, and A Look Inside Mamma Mia!) and a music video for the song Gimme Gimme Gimme.