Happy Birthday Oscar Wilde!
The Intern lacks a certain something. A certain…. Meryl-iness. In its tone we have observed a lack of Streep. Okay, so although Devil Wears Prada comparisons are inevitable… this movie is a cute movie. Anne Hathaway is nice… or at least her character allows her to be interesting. Although, by the way, the infantilisation of women continues to have a glorious run in this movie, sometimes literally, e.g. when Hathaway’s character’s daughter is so cute at the back of the car yelling out bossy (and of course wrong) instructions to a patient, Italianate Uncle Sam. Not too much here for poor De Niro. I think Hollywood now has an Anupam Kher/Amitabh Bachan to play preachy, old man roles if and when required.
I don’t mean to be ageist- we all grow old… so why is it that we have movies that act like old age is only what old people have to deal with … with a pinch of salt and a little bit of humour as they grin and bear it? Dying isn’t only what the dead do. Vast statements about the human condition aside, this movie also offers up the opportunity to lay out some old, sexist chestnuts, thankfully buried in obliquity when it comes to smarter, funnier more au courant movies. In short … this is no Date Night this is no The Grand Budapest Hotel this is not even a Chef (points taken off Chef since Scarlett Jo. is served up like something yum to eat. And seriously Scarlet Jo. and that guy from Chef. In what universe??!!Plus we have her performance in Her so I know I’m being shortchanged.)
Okay, this is no Spanglish. Also, no Julie and Julia. This is also no Juno or Little Miss Sunshine or Bridesmaids. Hmm, well this is The Intern. It sets the bar at medium.