Being the Ricardos, with its meager 6.6 IMDB rating, didn’t catch my eye until I saw its Oscar nomination. Only then did I even consider watching the film.
Full disclosure: I’m not a fan of Nicole Kidman in the slightest (she always seems like she’s got a stick up her butt, in my opinion). The shots of her character appearance in the trailer, like the toy Santa from The Santa Clause 3, or some done-up Hollywood horror housewife, didn’t help.
I also should come right out and say that I generally dislike biopic-type movies, especially when they are about celebrities, and it just seems kind of cruddy to me.
These people spend their whole lives on the screen hidden beneath characters, only to be paid homage to in the form of, yup, another character.
It’s inevitable. A biopic is nothing more than an interpretation of a genuine person, always with cinematic intent. Always. And sadly, biopics naturally tend to emphasize the more salacious details of a person’s life because the purpose is to entertain. The general public isn’t likely to be interested in a slow-moving, camera-panning 90-minute film where all Howard Hughes does sit alone in a dark room. I try to watch biopics just as, well, one-off movies. Still, all I see is a dramatic rendering of someone’s life that intensifies the already fantastical perception we have of celebrities.
Early in the film, the screenwriters and producers are seen discussing the premise for a famous episode of I Love Lucy, “Lucy’s Italian Movie,” wherein Lucy stomps wine grapes. The music, written by Daniel Pemberton, dramatically swells and falls back as we can see through Lucy’s mind’s eye, envisioning the episode that is now so familiar to millions. We watch as Lucy has this genius moment of clarity, but I wonder (and I don’t know) if it went down like that. I wonder if the actual, historical Lucille was sitting around laughing in the room and said, “Hey, what about grapes?!” Maybe not, but it feels unfair how the filmmakers delivered these scenes.
Something I did appreciate the filmmakers shedding light on (and I could have watched a whole film on this alone, by the way) was Lucille’s obsessive reworking of the scene with the flowers while Jess insists they move on. The scene was meant to, I think, display her genius and reveal her need to control her tv life in a way she couldn’t control in her real life.
But I liked the scope of the meticulous reality of crafting comedy that most audiences take for granted as fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants moments. I’m not saying anything new, but slapstick and physical comedy take intelligence and intention. The way Lucille breaks down a joke, the way she considers the audience, and the logic behind a good joke (as with the scene where Lucy is not meant to know that Ricky walks in), how she protects the characters’ intelligence is fascinating.
“Each move has to be articulate.” -Lucille
The filmmakers were wise to reinforce that articulation and meticulous action in the framework of the screenplay so that it wasn’t just something we watched or were told about but something we experienced in a multi-layered way.
Some other random thoughts:
- JK Simmons did an excellent job. Though he looked nothing like Fred and lacked the humpty-dumpty body type, the curl of his lip and the tilt of his head towards Lucy when he speaks with her at the bar was an excellent embodiment of character.
- I strongly disliked the cuts to interviews. It felt contrived.
- Nicole Kidman didn’t do much to embody Lucille except in her voice. She captured Lucy’s raspy, whiny voice impressively well.
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