BIOPIC

‘The Iron Lady’: Streep is strong, ‘Iron’ is weak | 2 stars

By JON NICCUM

Special to The Star

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Rated PG-13 | Time: 1:45

I have never forgotten an appearance comedian John Cleese made on “Letterman” in the late ’80s when the subject of Margaret Thatcher came up.

Cleese referred to the British prime minister as a “twisted old bat.”

Evidently, the filmmakers behind “The Iron Lady” took that opinion to heart. Their biopic about Thatcher’s rise and fall details how she went from a headstrong, salt-of-the-earth Oxford grad to a doddering, badgering, delusional casualty.

It’s not exactly a sympathetic portrayal … or a very interesting one.

The studio behind the project may have hoped star Meryl Streep would court the same attention that Helen Mirren earned with her Oscar-winning portrayal in “The Queen” or Colin Firth with his in “The King’s Speech.” But they appear in much better pictures that avoid the typical trappings of British period bios. Instead, these films concentrate on a modest stretch of time, primarily focusing on their protagonist’s reaction to a specific event.

“The Iron Lady” attempts decades-spanning jumps, scrutinizing childhood to young adult to elderly life. Similar to the equally uninvolving “J. Edgar,” the movie struggles to build momentum because it lacks linear movement.

“It used to be about trying to do something. Now it’s about trying to be someone,” Thatcher says.

The biopic takes us through her life at the family grocery during the London Blitz to her successful bid for Parliament in 1959. Twenty years later she occupies “one of the most famous addresses in the world” as England’s first female prime minister.

Dubbed by the Soviets as “the Iron Lady,” Thatcher’s honeymoon period ends quickly as her country becomes mired in IRA bombings, economic decline and a costly war in the Falkland Islands.

Director Phyllida Lloyd (“Mamma Mia!”) does excel in two areas. First, she’s good at structuring the look of the film, which is well-shot by Elliot Davis (“Twilight”), highlighting images of Thatcher’s striking blue outfit amid the black/gray suits of her colleagues. Second, she effectively conveys the struggles of a woman making inroads into a traditionally male domain.

“One’s life must matter — beyond all the cooking and cleaning and the children,” says Thatcher (played in her younger years by Alexandra Roach).

The sexism angle is engaging, especially during a scene in which a marketing team works with Thatcher’s squeaky voice and dowdy look to make her “electable.” I’ve always found Streep as compelling during comedic scenes as dramatic ones. She’s got a terrific way of underplaying these moments and wringing the most out of words that might normally just sit on the page. Despite the the film’s weaknesses, she’s practically a shoo-in for a best actress Oscar nomination.

Where the movie really leaves Streep dangling, though, is in scenes opposite Thatcher’s husband, Denis (played in later life by Jim Broadbent). The screenplay (by “Shame” writer Abi Morgan) makes a crucial misstep by depicting their interaction after he is already dead from cancer. His ghost keeps cropping up to offer advice, even delivering a tacky jump-scare at one point.

A few times might have been effective, but these hallucinatory scenes hammer us over and over: Look, the world’s most powerful woman is LOSING HER MIND!

Regardless of your political bent, this seems a disrespectful choice when portraying one of the era’s most groundbreaking and influential individuals.