
There's nothing wrong with "Mamma Mia!," the big-screen adaptation of the ABBA-inspired musical, that a healthy dose of cynicism wouldn't fix. I leave that to someone else. Meanwhile, Universal Pictures deserves credit for pitting "Mamma Mia!'' against the foreboding presence of "The Dark Knight." If Batman has gone pitch-black thematically (and it has), "Mamma Mia!" races headlong in the opposite direction, bathing itself in the spectacular light of a Greek island and in the unrelentingly upbeat rhythms of ABBA tunes. Devotes can compare the screen version to the stage show; I'll just say that I've now had my "giddy" quotient for the year. Maybe the next two.
A couple of things did occur to me as I listened to the teen-agers in the audience giggle at the way director Phillidia Lloyd framed the movie's jokes. For one, I couldn't shake the illusion-shattering knowledge that I was watching Meryl Streep sing and dance. I kept thinking something along the lines of, "Yes, it's Meryl playing air guitar, doing girl-group riffs and falling into the spirit of the whole frivolous enterprise." Pierce Brosnan, on the other, can't really sing, and I had a kind of reverse realization watching him. "Yes, there's Pierce not singing particularly well," I thought.

Also in attendance are two of Donna's gal pals (Julie Walters and Christine Baranski). Call Baranski the clear winner as far as performance is concerned. She's the group's seen-it-all, done-it-all woman.
The whole production is so pumped up that it virtually screams, "Isn't this fun?" Some of it is, but after a while, it's tiresome watching a movie that seems to be telling us how much fun we're supposed to be having. I suppose I eventually was beaten into submission. Meryl, you convinced me. You had a great time making the movie. You are the dancing queen. You go, girl.
Now, onto more important business and more appropriate exclamation points: Let's fire up the Batmobile!
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