The filmmakers

mounted Streep

on platform heels,

stretched her out,

and put her together

with the compact Stanley Tucci

(as Child’s loving husband, Paul).


Like a tall ship in full sail,

Streep leans, tilts, and billows.

Odd explosions of air—

whoops, exclamations—

come hurtling

through the passageways.

She runs out of breath,

and then settles,


like an old Bible

that italicizes ordinary words,

on a single syllable.


Julie and Julia (Review)
David Denby
The New Yorker




~ by eaesthete on 09/02/09.

One Response to “Afterword”

  1. And that, dear EA, is how reviews should be written. (And reading this on the heels of last night’s viewing of “Please Don’t Eat the Daisies.”)

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