Florence Foster Jenkins (2016)

There’s an interesting real-life story here, but it doesn’t exactly comfortably fill up a feature-length runtime, and the pacing lags as the filmmakers struggle to develop the concept beyond the premise.

Information about the relationship between the principal characters is doled out slowly over the course of the film, presumably to create some sort of narrative and maintain interest, but it leaves the characters uninteresting and thinly-sketched for much of the runtime. There are some half-hearted questions raised about the nature of investment in art, and what constitutes a loving relationship, but they never really go anywhere. In this day and age, there’s a lot of mileage in exploring the idea of ironically and snarkily appreciating art one considers dismal, but there are no great comments made here on the matter.

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I give it two sandwiches, and a bathtub full of potato salad.

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