RICKY AND THE FLASH by Jonathan Demme

JONATHAN DEMME and live music performances still go well together, as one would expect. But RICKI AND THE FLASH is much less impressive when it's time to get serious and the life of a failed rockstar and estranged mother off stage.

JONATHAN DEMME's cinema is one that has been defined by music even when music was not especially one of its central narrative elements. In RICKI AND THE FLASH, his sensibilities towards musicians provides a solid starting point for what is essentially, however, quite a straight forward and disappointingly inconsistent story about a mother who chose to chase her dreams of making it as a rockstar, to the point of giving up being a mother to her kids, that are now estranged. 

The tragic circumstance of her daughter's abrupt break up with her husband leads to a new opportunity for stage-named Ricki (MERYL STREEP) to reconnect with her family. So, she travels to the home of her ex-husband (KEVIN KLINE), who in the meantime has done very well for himself, living in a big house with a lovely wife momentarily out of town to take care of her ill father, while she is stuck playing the same regular gig at a local bar and in a seemingly half hearted relationship with her lead guitarist (RICK SPRINGFIELD).

The whole thing seems autopiloted, predictable and cliche. It's not necessarily dishonest, just downright unambitious and does nothing to give either a three dimensional portrayal of the character of a failed rock star, nor does it particularly update the usual stereotype of the estranged mother. The fact that one of her offsprings is having a breakdown, the other is a homosexual and the third is close to getting married is almost a lazy representation of this type of stereotypical type of plot. 

MERYL STREEP learned to play the guitar for the role, and occasionally looks like she is having fun playing her Ricki's restrained anarchic and non-conformist behavious, struggling to adapt with having to conform as a supermarket clerk with her cartoonishly obnoxious boss. However, the reason why her character is so tough to penetrate is not necessarily due to her complexity, but more due to the trivial imperfections of her character development and the film's overall volatile narrative arch. 

One thing, however, is for sure - the director of STOP MAKING SENSE has not lost his touch with his masterful ability to film live performances. In fact, the performances in RICKI AND THE FLASH are the real centre piece of the feature. It is not only the rocking tunes themselves, but also the interactions, tension but also the chemistry shared by the band that is so well captured by the filmmaker, and is particularly successful in underlining the relationship between Ricki and her part-time lover lead guitarist. Whereas the direction in these scenes comes across as being very inspired, quite the opposite happens off stage, which even for a standard crowd pleaser seems shallow and lifeless.