As a Streeper myself, what a time to be alive!
Last week, two films starring 21-time Oscar nominee Meryl Streep debuted: the dramedy Let Them All Talk (Dec. 10 on HBO Max) and the musical The Prom (Dec. 11 on Netflix). A double feature in a year is nothing new to her; she just did that in the last two years. However, her films this year could not be anymore different in terms of subject matter and filmmaking style, but both show the wide range, skill, and adaptability that Streep has, proving that her “greatest living actress” title is nowhere near a product of baseless mythologizing...
In Let Them All Talk, Streep collaborates with Steven Soderbergh for the second time to tell the bittersweet story of an author who reunites with her estranged friends while on a cruise on her way to receive a literary award. Always up for some experimenting, Soderbergh then tasks Streep, as well as the other cast members, to improvise much of the dialogue while only adhering to a given outline. The film was also mostly shot in an actual cruise running its course as said in the film.
The result is a film that depends on the skillful characterization that could only be in symphony with the film’s naturalistic, low-key filmmaking. The nature of the film demands removal of any artifice or manufactured emotions. Rather, scenes live in the space of the mundane and the seemingly insignificant. I can only imagine that actors are forced to mine deep into their characters so that the words that will come out will hopefully form a coherent building block for their characters.
Joining the cast of veterans Candice Bergen and Dianne Weist and younger thespians Lucas Hedges and Gemma Chan, Streep comes in as the formidable fulcrum of the characters in the narrative. All of the other characters are connected by Streep’s Alice Hughes and talking about her even when she is not in the scene. That heightens the importance of her presence in every scene. And yet, Streep locates the journey of her character in her incapacity to actually connect with an almost taciturn demeanor. Her words are carefully selected and occasionally hesitantly delivered, almost as if she is always testing the waters with her estranged friends. The unpredictability of Streep’s performance is on the waiting game; Alice is on an important journey with multiple strands that complicate it (writing a book, connecting with friends, suspected tryst), but Streep chooses to dwell in the smaller, quieter moments.
During one key moment, Alice gives advice to his nephew Tyler (Hedges) after admitting his attraction for another woman (Chan) on the ship. While Tyler sees his unreciprocated advance as a failure, Alice sees the beauty in it. This is one of the scenes in the film where Streep isn’t the one steering the conversation but attentively reacts to his co-actor physically and verbally. She listens and lovingly observes his nephew in this emotional moment. She then gives her insight as his aunt, as an experienced woman, and as an author, all in a wonderfully delivered monologue about treasuring that experience. It’s a quietly moving moment from both Streep and Hedges.
At the other end of the spectrum is The Prom, the explosive Broadway musical about a group of actors from Broadway who sets out to rejuvenate their reputation and career by helping a lesbian teenager in Indiana after being barred to attend the said prom due to her sexual orientation. Here, Streep is required to belt big songs, dance quick steps, and steal the spotlight if necessary. If her previous film requires her to shed any amount of vanity to fit in the film, this film demands that Streep pop out in every way. Streep’s Dee Dee Allen is a larger-than-live diva that commands every scene that she is in. The film and the characters around Dee Dee knows it so it already sets up huge expectations for the character.
In true Meryl fashion, she does that and more. Of course, Streep’s interpretation of this self-conceited artist is not a hollow grandstanding but is one that allows to dig deeper than what the material or the filmmaking would even allow. We see a woman in desperation to stay on top of her game and be relevant. Even in the “It’s Not About Me” number, Streep relishes in the entire irony of that moment. This is the kind of filmmaking that can be too spectacular for its own good. Bursting colors, sweeping camera movements, and swelling music are all in play in this film that could potentially dwarf a performer that would not be attuned to the filmmaker's vision (and Ryan Murphy's stylistic choices can feel imposing at times).
Streep does well in modulating her character and her performance: she knows when to stand out, blend in, tone it down, amp it up, and all the in-betweens while still forming a coherent character that does not drown from the film's style. And with quite a cast of big personalities, Streep determines her relationship with each character with dynamic energy that it is always exciting to see what she does next. Her most interesting connection in the film is with the school principal (Keegan-Michael Key). In a subplot that subverts our expectations about Dee Dee, Streep shows the bashful excitement that she has over a fan that appreciates her genuinely. However, that is just a setup of a heartbreaking facet of her character that will come next.
Her hesitant relationship with romance is explored in a scene with her while talking to Barry (James Corden) about her previous marriage. Streep paints a tapestry of emotional beats throughout that moment: convincing herself that she is over the pain, blaming herself for not knowing her marriage’s doom earlier, admitting the heartbreaking effect of the separation, and then finally facing the ugly thing that his ex-husband did. Within the span of less than a minute’s worth of dialogue, Streep flawlessly navigates the rollercoaster of emotions in the expertly subtlest of ways while realizing its emotional brutality. For a character that is used to seizing every moment to shine, this moment stands out as one of the moments where she opens up and surrenders to things that are beyond her control. This genuinely touching moment by Streep is done with careful restraint, something that the film needed amidst its occasionally bombastic tendencies.
Maybe it is just because the two aforementioned scenes hit too close to home to me, especially last weekend. Maybe it was the sheer joy of seeing Meryl opening two films in the same week. Maybe it was watching them consecutively. Maybe it was all of the above.
Truly, Streep's interpretation of Alice Hughes and Dee Dee Allen are testaments to her longstanding commitment to the craft of acting that she was able to create two performances with vivid characterization and visible enthusiasm. While I personally prefer her work in Let Them All Talk by a bit, she will definitely have more Oscar push for her work in The Prom and I won't begrudge it. Also, she will most likely earn double Golden Globe nominations for Best Actress - Musical or Comedy.
Whatever happens this awards season, Meryl has just proven again that, at 71 glorious years of age, that she remains at the top of her game. And I quote a line from Let Them All Talk: "Bow down, bitch. Bow down."
This season, have yourself a Meryl little Christmas.