Publicity
poster for Florence Foster Jenkins (©
Stephen Frears/Pathé/BBC Films/Qwerty Films/20th Century Fox/Pathé Distribution
– reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review
purposes only)
Seeing that it is now exactly 2 years to
the day since I originally watched this wonderful biopic and then wrote a mini-review of it [5 August 2018], today seems as appropriate a time as any to revive and
expand that mini-review as a Shuker In MovieLand review. So here it is.
Call me an old fogey, but today very few
movies move me - the vast majority are simply too brash, too crude, too
knowing, too gritty, too cynical for my taste. However, the thoroughly charming
tragi-comedy that I've just watched tonight [5 August 2018] on television is
none of those things. Furthermore, it is made even more extraordinary, often
poignant, and extremely touching by virtue of the fact that it is based upon
fact, telling the true story of one of the world's most remarkable singers -
Florence Foster Jenkins (1868-1944), whose name is also the title of this
wonderful, highly-acclaimed biographical film, directed by Stephen Frears and released
in 2016.
Played magnificently by Meryl Streep (who
received an Oscar nomination for this role), Florence was an elderly NYC
heiress and socialite who had long ago inherited colossal wealth (and, tragically,
syphilis too) from her callous first husband, but used his money not only to generously
fund all manner of classical music functions and festivals in New York but also
to pay for singing lessons for herself and to retain talented if
hitherto-unknown pianist Cosmé McMoon (played brilliantly by Simon Helberg) to
accompany her at her subsequent concerts.
Florence was possessed of great zeal and
determination to succeed as an operatic soprano singer, but unfortunately – SPOILER ALERT!!
– she was tone deaf, which is the film's bittersweet crux.
I call her life story a tragi-comedy
because that is precisely what it is, combining these two diametrically
opposite scenarios to spellbinding yet also very tender, enthralling effect.
The comedy is derived from the hilarious reality of just how ear-splittingly
atrocious a singer Florence was (some of her excruciating recordings can be
heard on YouTube, including one that is actually accompanied by rare film footage
of her – click here to view and listen to it).
The tragedy comes from the soul-wrenching irony that almost until the very end
of her life she was blissfully oblivious of this – which was due to the
kindness of her many friends and most especially to her very supportive,
encouraging second husband, Sinclair Bayfield (played very gallantly throughout
by Hugh Grant in a BAFTA and Golden Globe-nominated performance), who were
happy to turn in every sense a deaf ear to her musical shortcomings on account
of her own very genuine and extremely kind-hearted nature, always willing to
help them emotionally and financially.
Unfortunately, by always being shielded
from ever knowing the truth about her musical failings, Florence finally decided
very boldly, at the age of 76, to hire nothing less than New York's peerless
Carnegie Hall for a special one-night performance by her, on 25 October 1944, in
order to honour the American troops fighting in WW2 and, once again
demonstrating her warm, generous spirit, giving away a thousand free tickets to
soldiers on leave so that they could attend. Happily, however, once the
soldiers were appraised of the truth regarding Florence's singing and were thus
'in' on the joke, they applauded her thunderously just like her friends had
always done, and she returned home afterwards in absolute triumph. The next
day, moreover, all of the main newspapers contained glowing reviews of her
concert; bearing in mind, however, that, unknown yet again to Florence, their music
critics were all friends with Sinclair, this was hardly surprising.
All but Earl Wilson, the New York Post's music critic, that is. Never
having been won over by Sinclair's charm, or bribes, Wilson became the
equivalent of the little boy in Hans Christian Andersen's classic fairy tale 'The
Emperor's New Clothes', not adhering to the fantasy line spun by everyone else
but instead telling it just as it was, in an excoriating review that
vitriolically denounced Florence as the worst singer in the world. Despite
Sinclair's attempts to prevent Florence from knowing about it, she finally
discovered and read Wilson's review, and was utterly devastated, collapsing
onto the floor. The house of cards collapsed, the mirage was blown away, the
castle in the air plummeted to the ground, Florence finally knew the truth -
and only a month later, she passed away.
The shock and humiliation, coupled with
the stress of performing at Carnegie Hall at her advanced age, plus the
underlying, ever-present weakness of her constitution caused by living with
syphilis for 50 years after unsuspectingly contracting the debilitating disease
from her first husband on her wedding night, when she was an innocent 18-year-old
virgin - it had all been too much.
Yet in spite of everything, what had kept
Florence alive throughout those five decades of ill-health had been her
indomitable determination to make music her life - and make it her life she
truly did. Even after finally learning the grim reality of her singing talent's
non-existence, she gained comfort from the undeniable fact that although people
had stated that she couldn't sing, she had
sung, and in so doing had made her dreams come true - a lesson for us all.
I cannot recommend this inspirational movie
highly enough – watch it and celebrate as I did a human spirit undiminished and
unconquered by the limitations imposed by life – and here
is an official trailer to tempt and tantalise you with the joy, the delights, and
the destiny encapsulated in the extraordinary story of an exceptional lady, Florence
Foster Jenkins.
And to view a complete listing of all of my Shuker In MovieLand blog's other film reviews and articles (each one instantly accessible via a direct clickable link), please click HERE!
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