dir Phyllida Lloyd, scrpl Catherine Johnson, cin Haris Zambarloukos, ed Lesley Walker
Mamma mia, here I go again, my my, how can I resist you?
Mamma mia, does it show again?
My my, just how much I’ve missed you?
Yes, I’ve been brokenhearted, blue since the day we parted
Why, why did I ever let you go?
Mamma mia, now I really know, my my, I could never let you go.
– Donna Sheridan (Meryl Streep)
Writing about Chicago, I suggested that one’s enjoyment of the film was predicated on one’s enjoyment of musicals in general. I’ll offer a similar disclaimer for Mamma Mia! with an additional caveat, this movie is purely for fans of the Swedish pop group ABBA.
Developed first as a stage musical by playwright Catherine Johnson, Mamma Mia! has shoehorned much of ABBA’s catalog into the story of single mother Donna Sheridan (Streep) who has raised her daughter Sophie (Seyfried) at a dilapidated hotel on a secluded Greek island.
About to be married, Sophie wants to invite her father to the wedding, so she steals her mother’s diary to discover her mysterious dad is one of three men. Undeterred, she invites all three to the wedding. Hijinx ensue.
There isn’t very much plot, just enough to stitch ABBA’s discography into a reasonably cohesive narrative. Streep, predictably, makes the most of her role and proves to be a surprisingly effective singer.
Seyfried, too, has a good voice, which is all her character really demands. To see Seyfried actually act, check her out in HBO’s Big Love. She is excellent as Sarah Hendrickson, the conflicted teenaged daughter of polygamists.
Neither Brosnan, Firth nor Skarsgård has a particularly strong talent for song, which is painfully obvious when they sing, or more accurately rhythmically shout over musical accompaniment.. Their banter is amusing enough though, and each display a seemingly genuine affection for Seyfried’s Sophie.
Mamma Mia!’s worst sin isn’t that it’s a horrible train wreck of a film, but rather that it’s completely unnecessary. I suppose that to be expected when you try to string a narrative from a collection of thirty-year old pop tunes.