RICKI AND THE FLASH – The Review

It’s familiar fodder for a comedy/drama. Y’know the story of a parent leaving the family unit in order to follow a dream. Then years later, having to return for an uncomfortable, often strained reunion that usually concludes with a big, new extended-family group hug. After a failed attempt (but sometimes successful) at acquiring fame and fortune the prodigal poppa realizes that everything he really desired was right in his back yard. We recently saw this occur in DANNY COLLINS. But this new flick does a switcheroo with that formula. This time mom flew the coop in pursuit of her passions and dreams. Meryl Streep reteams with Jonathan Demme (they remade THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE a few years ago) to tell Oscar-winning scribe Diablo Cody’s tale of, not speedster superheroes, family and rock n’ roll. Grab a brew and settle in for a solid set from RICKI AND THE FLASH.

Life’s just a-chuggin’ along for Ricki (Streep). Sure, her daytime gig ringing up over-priced groceries is a drag, but she lives for the evening hours when she takes to the stage of the Tarzana, CA watering-hole “The Salt Well” to belt out some rock anthems with her back-up band, “The Flash”. Plus, she’s got a nice “band mate with benefits” thing going on with the hunky lead guitarist Greg (Rick Springfield). Then, out of the blue, she gets the phone call. It’s from her ex-husband Pete (Kevin Kline) back in Indianapolis. Ricki, then called  Linda, left him and their three kids nearly thirty years ago in order to follow her musical muse. Pete’s remarried, but second wife Maureen is caring for her ailing, faraway father, so he makes a desperate plea to Ricki. Their only daughter Julie (Mamie Gummer) is having a break-down after her hubby left her. Pete can’t get through to her, so perhaps Mom can put her back on track. Ricki hops on an East-bound flight and soon arrives at Pete’s swanky estate. After a tense reunion with Julie (lotsa’ issues between them), the ice starts to melt, just in time for another awkward get-together with Ricki’s two sons. Josh (Sebastian Stan) is engaged to the prim Emily (Hailey Gates). They make an attempt at polite small talk, but son Adam (Nick Westrate) is seething with anger. Later Ricki, Pete, and Julie bond over some medicinal herbs, but the calm is disturbed by the surprise return of the no-nonsense Maureen (Audra McDonald). The former and current spouses clash and soon Ricki’s back in CA, but things just don’t seem right (especially between her and Greg) until a mysterious package arrives in the mail. Could its contents finally inspire Linda..er..Ricki to get her non-stage act together?

Streep proves yet again to be a true force of cinematic nature, her character more than deserves top title billing. Yes, we’ve been treated to those powerfully melodic pipes before (just a few months ago actually, via INTO THE WOODS), but here she tackles all manner of modern styles, from heavy metal anthems to pop ballads, even an original acoustic number. She’s never just playing “dress-up” in her  Lita Ford-style “video-vixen” fashions, Streep exudes a sultry, unforced allure. Can she still tear out our hearts? Oh yes indeed, especially as she realizes the hurt her impulsive nature instilled in her siblings. But she can win us back with her naughty cackle as she cracks wise at a beauty parlor. Plus she’s got a wonderful rapport with both of her leading men. Thirty three years after their initial pairing (in SOPHIE’S CHOICE), she and Kline have a terrific chemistry. The uptight, button-down Pete is no mere straight-man to the outrageous Ricki. Kline gives each line a distinct, wry tone, never having to mug in order to sell the joke. Springfield still makes the ladies swoon, but he reveals a real vulnerable side as a guy who wants to be more than a last-minute, late night “hook-up” (as in TRAINWRECK, the lady is leery of commitment). Oh, and the former teen heart-throb can really work that “ax’! And, of course, there are considerable sparks between Streep and her real-life daughter Gummer, whose Julie is a walking, screeching open wound who absolutely will not cut “Liiindaa” any slack, not matter how far she’s traveled to “comfort” her. Gummer’s got a keen acerbic line delivery that cuts like a cleaver. The two brothers, played by Stan (the Winter Soldier!) and Westrate make a lasting impression despite their brief screen time, as does the nervous, twitchy Gates. Though she’s absent for the film’s first half, McDonald bursts out like a charging rhino and makes an impressive verbal sparring partner for Streep (neither’s completely in the wrong or right). Laughs and tunes are provided by those other members of The Flash: Rick Rosas, Joe Vitale, and Bernie Worrell, all first class musicians. And then there’s the hysterical Ben Platt as the Salt Well’s remarkably enthusiastic bartender and Ricki’s number one “fan-atic”.

It’s a real shame that the film itself leaves this incredible ensemble adrift. The direction by the usually compelling Demme is quite pedestrian, often resembling a basic cable movie or mini-series (or home design “porn” with his loving, long pans throughout Pete’s plush Indiana digs). Plus he spends far too much time with the band on stage. The Flash performs complete tunes, when just a snippet will do. The inserts of their meager, but very appreciative “long in the tooth” groupies quickly became tiresome (oh, another silver-gray ponytail?). The meandering screenplay by Cody (I swear that’s her enthusiastically “gettin’ down” to a U2 classic at the “Well”) doesn’t help the film’s languid pacing. The first third is pretty entertaining (loved the jabs at the trendy “foods” store), but the “story train” completely left the rails soon after during a contrived confrontation inside an eatery that rings completely false. The movie seems to be spinning its wheels after Ricki’s return, perhaps in order to set up a trite “feel good” finale. I mean the old “fuddy duddies” at a big family function are horrified at hearing rock and/or roll AKA “The Devil’s Music”! Hey, they’re in their fifties and sixties…and just what did they listen to, while in their teens? I mean they’re reacting like party extras in an old Alan Freed flick! Pu-leeze! Hey, at least there’s not an “old lovers rekindling the passion” moment. Hard core Streep fans will probably have a toe-tappin’ good time, but really, RICKI AND THE FLASH is barely a flash-in-the-pan. Tip your servers and gooood night, Tarzana!!

3 Out of 5