THE Current Mrs Feeney, The Daughter Who Left (but came back), and I were back in the cinema last night. We went to see Joy, the semi-autobiographical/ semi-fictional story of Joy Mangano, a divorced mother of three who invented the Miracle Mop and went on to become a multi-millionaire businesswoman.
The twenty-minute queue to get our tickets made me wonder why people no longer seem capable of going to the cinema without the need to buy a three-course picnic to get them through the next few hours.
Even TCMrsF succumbed and bought six inches of some meat product, a strange heightened-orange colour and encased in something masquerading as a bread roll. She then proceeded to tempt me (unsuccessfully) to share this culinary delight.
What about the film? A couple of professional critics whose opinion I value had been decidedly lukewarm in their enthusiasm, despite Jennifer Lawrence’s performance as Joy. For the first part of the film, I wondered what they had disliked about it.
The dysfunctional family is hardly a groundbreaking topic, but there were passages of genuine charm alongside the more predictable tantrums and tears.
It was only after Joy had invented her mop and started selling it on cable television shopping channels that I found myself in the thumbs-down camp with the critics. I found The Story of A Mop less than gripping. Neither am I convinced that shopping channels have had the seminal influence on the development of Western civilisation that they seem to be credited with here.
So overall I didn’t think Joy’s life story – or her mop – were worth all the time, effort and acting talent on display.
Now I have to go and find the soda water for TCMrsF; her stomach is a little unsettled; I cannot imagine why.
Retired Bloke Rating OK **