Friday, August 17, 2012

Hope Springs Sinks

The sole viewer under the age of about 50, I felt more out-of-place than a redneck carnivoire in a vegan restaurant today when my grandmother and I attended a showing of the film Hope Springs. The plot revolved around a couple in the golden years of their marriage, which, unbeknownst to her husband, is far from his wife's vision of an ideal one. One day, Kay comes across a book on improving stale marriages in a self-help section and learns that the author provides intensive couples counseling in Maine. She approaches Arthur, her husband, gives him a boarding pass and informs him that with or without him, she is going. SPOILER ALERT, he gets on the plane. I know you are all shocked.
Perhaps appropriately so, the running time of the film adheres to the cliche, hope springs eternal (though the title actually comes from the name of a town in Maine). One hour and forty minutes should not feel like eternity, and is a clear indication that the plot needs a serious injection of oomph. Lengthy scenes of Kay and Arnold awkwardly describing their sex lives in detail to their therapist (Steve Carell) could have been cut in half, as could the scenes of their attempts at rekindling their intimacy.

One critic accurately noted that without Streep, Carell and Jones in the leading roles, Hope Springs would not be watchable. Though such a seemingly insignificant and "fluffy" role would seem unbefitting for Streep, she embraces the character with stride and gives life to the character. As it turns out, Meryl Streep masters the role of sexually frustrated 60-something housewife. Another critic pointed out that despite being marketed as a comedy resembles more accurately a drama.

This movie was watchable enough. But please, ladies, do not bring your husbands unless you want to send them a message that you are sexually frustrated. Any man would find it a torturous punishment.

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