July 11th, 2008. Going into the cinema to watch
Mamma Mia with my dad, I had no idea what to expect. Upon leaving, I had just
gone through one of my best cinema-going experiences. Ten years later, I feel
the same way. I know Mamma Mia is necessarily ‘good’ film-making. I knew that
back in 2008; Mamma Mia came out in the same month as The Dark Knight and
Wall-E (in the UK, anyway, which I think are vastly superior films. Mamma Mia
was simply meant to be a cheerily cheesy love letter to the music of ABBA,
performed by actors (particularly the more experienced cast members) who knew
exactly what tone to go for. And, from the enthused response from both my
cinema viewings of the film (the former with my dad and the latter with my
grandma), I’d say that it wildly succeeded. Cinema, much like life itself, has
a vast fluidity and variety which enables different people to find
satisfaction. Mamma Mia delivered that for many people, becoming a worldwide
hit in the process. That makes a sequel both understandable and slightly
worrying; after all, Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again could have easily been nothing
more than a cash-grab. Thankfully, that’s not the case. Now I’m sure the studio
executives are hoping for this to be a huge hit. But Here We Go Again doesn’t
feel designed solely for that purpose. From early on, the film introduces an
unexpected layer of pathos and, aside from another giddily cheerful trip
through ABBA’s oeuvre, has a beautiful message about the passage of time (and
both the pain and joy inherent in that) which makes the existence of this
sequel both earnt and welcome.
Picking up five years after the original, Sophie (Amanda
Seyfried) is having a crisis. Trying to honour her absent mother Donna (Meryl
Streep), she finds her relationship with her husband Sky (Dominic Cooper) under
strain while struggling to decide which direction to take. Intercut with
Sophie’s story is the tale of young Donna (Lily James) as she decides to travel
the world for new exciting experiences. Her journey leads her to the Greek
Island of Kalokairi, as well as encounters with Sophie’s three potential
fathers; Harry (Hugh Skinner in flashbacks, Colin Firth in present), Sam (Jeremy
Irvine in flashbacks, Pierce Brosnan in present) and Bill (Josh Dylan in
flashbacks, Stellan Skarsgard in present).
Writer-director Ol Parker, taking over from original
director Phyllida Lloyd and writer Catherine Johnson, seems to be making his
own mark on the material. This is sometimes detrimental to the events of the
original; the encounters Donna has with her three suitors don’t match up to the
order as established in the first film, and the timeline for both films is made
even more difficult to decipher (the flashbacks take place in 1979, but if Here
We Go Again is set in the very present, that would make Sophie 38 years old,
which doesn’t quite add up). However, with those noticeable flaws set aside,
Parker shows much more confidence and welcome self-awareness in both his
dialogue and choreography than his predecessors. This immensely helps his
actors, all of whom imbue their performances with either cheerful abandon
and/or surprising poignancy. Firth and Skarsgard especially embrace the
silliness and make wonderful fools of themselves; their entrance into the
‘Dancing Queen’ number, despite being a gesture parodied multiple times, still
got a huge laugh from the audience. Both Skinner and Dylan do a terrific job
playing the younger versions of those characters, too; Skinner captures Firth’s
upper-class charm and almost-panicked energy to a tee (his duet of ‘Waterloo’
with Lily James is a highlight), and Dylan is a dead-ringer for Skarsgard’s
self-assurance and down-to-earth likeability.
Other show-stealing turns come from Julie Walters and
Christine Baranski, both offering warmly hilarious support as Donna’s friends
Rosie and Tanya; their shared rendition of Angel Eyes is a thing of comic
beauty, especially Walters’ somewhat unsure choreography. Alexa Davies and
Jessica Keenan Wynn are just as good in playing younger Rosie and Tanya
respectively; it’s almost uncanny how much Wynn, in particular, resembles
Baranski in both appearance, speech and behaviour. Jeremy Irvine is also solid
in capturing younger Pierce Brosnan, even though his performance doesn’t leave
quite as big an impression as his flashback co-stars. Speaking of Brosnan, he’s
surprisingly effective here. After the original Mamma Mia, Brosnan was
criticized (rather brutally, actually) for his limited singing abilities.
Parker, recognizing this limitation, strips Brosnan of any big, belt-‘em-out
numbers and instead makes him sing mainly as part of the ensemble. The only
time Brosnan sings solo is very restrained and sorrowful, and even if his voice
isn’t great on its own, the emotion he puts into the song creates an unforced
sadness. Seyfried delivers an improved performance over her work in the
original, coming across as more mature and uncertain. It doesn’t hurt that her
singing voice is still very nice to listen to. Joining the original cast in the
present-day scenes are Andy Garcia as the new manager of Donna’s hotel and Cher
as Sophie’s elusive grandmother. Both these actors lend a professional grace
and confidence to their scenes, and when Cher starts to belt out ‘Fernando’,
you’re reminded why she’s truly one of the greats with that booming yet tender
and gorgeous voice. Brilliantly judged comic turns from Omid Djalili as a
perplexingly ageless customs officer and Panos Mouzourakis as an energized
singer on Kalokairi round out the fantastic cast. Even the weakest of the
principal cast, Dominic Cooper, is passable enough to avoid too much scrutiny.
But the star of this film, without a doubt in my mind, is
Lily James. While I’ve been impressed with her work before (most recently in
last year’s Baby Driver), she takes this starring role and knocks it out of the
park. She is a force of nature, both in her portrayal of the care-free and
vivacious Donna and in her song numbers. She gets the most song/dance time out
of all the cast, and James is mesmerizing to watch and to listen to. All of her
numbers are strong, but the stand-outs are her introduction number ‘When I Kissed
the Teacher’, that aforementioned ‘Waterloo’ duet, her teasing duet of ‘Why Did
It Have to Be Me’ with Josh Dylan and her serenely vulnerable performance of
‘Andante, Andante’; I have been listening to the latter as much as possible
over the past couple of days. Donna is the thorough-line for the film, and
James’s star presence is nothing less than a gift.
Technically, the choreography of the numbers is much-improved
over the original. Also, the settings are more unique; the ‘Dancing Queen’
sequence in this film eclipses that in the first mainly for how and where the
sequence plays out, and the framing of the lovelorn duet ‘One of Us’ uses
simple but effective framing to emphasise how close yet how far Sophie and Sky
are from each other. Meanwhile, the Croatian Island of Vis makes a stunning
stand-in for the Island of Kalokairi, and the cinematography once again basks
in the glorious sunshine as much as possible.
Time... It is a beautiful yet terrible thing, offering us
the chance to grow, live and create new lives in the process all with the
knowledge that our own moments are fleeting. It is a cyclical process, with
every ending coming in close proximity to a new beginning. In the ten years
between the original and the sequel, I personally have learnt both great and
harsh lessons about life, and I have lost loved ones along the way. For all of
the bubbly energy and fun on display here (the older members of the cast have an
amusing yet relatable reaction to a certain lyric from ‘Dancing Queen’), the
acknowledgement of life’s pleasures, pains and their impending closure lends
the film a bitterly poignant sting. Proving an underlying fixture for much of
the run-time, the emotional punch comes full circle in an epilogue which had me
fighting back tears.
Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again has stronger production values,
a more on-point cast, a slew of hilarious moments and a much more defined sense
of confidence when compared to its predecessor. But it’s in the painfully
identifiable acknowledgement of life’s fallibility, and the drive to live as
passionately fulfilling an existence as possible until the day our time has
been spent, that this initially-thought unnecessary project becomes one of the
most surprisingly delightful and moving sequels for quite some time.
On a final note, stay until after the credits. There’s a
small but priceless moment which is worth catching.
Final Rating: 4 out
of 5
