Being the Ricardos
AMAZONIf it isn’t set in a courtroom, directed by David Fincher or Danny Boyle, then writer/director Aaron Sorkin should not bother with it. Fast-paced dialogue does not necessarily work if the tension does not mount between the characters and the audience. Moreover, it is partly why his third directorial effort, Being the Ricardos, does not work. It is also devoid of any style, personality, or relevance that would make his cinematic adaptation of Lucille Ball (Nicole Kidman) and Desi Arnaz (Javier Bardem)’s relationship as multiple scandals befall the production of I Love Lucy worthwhile, but it barely holds any interest for 132 painstakingly long minutes.
Instead of solely focusing on the most critical week of I Love Lucy’s production – to which a radio show accuses Ball of being a member of the Communist Party and a tabloid magazine shows Arnaz having an affair – Sorkin constantly flashes back to contextualise how Ball and Arnaz met, or how the most popular sitcom of all time was conceived. None of these scenes holds any importance to what the film wants to tell. Scratch that; the film has no idea what it wants to tell. The film presents I Love Lucy as the quintessential sitcom, with Ball and Arnaz developing indelible chemistry throughout the program that made any person who tuned in fall immediately in love with their tribulations.
Nevertheless, Sorkin paints Ball’s “real-life” personality as a perfectionist who will strive at anything for success and make sure that everything she has mapped out in her head – presented through black and white representations – are on the screen, even if it means dissociating her personal life in favour of a more “idealised” version of herself in the sitcom. It would have worked rather well if the script was focused and the lead was not this terribly miscast. Nicole Kidman is a usually great actress and has proven herself repeatedly. While Jay Roach’s Bombshell was not necessarily perfection, Kidman’s performance as Gretchen Carlson elevated the film’s formulaic material to compelling heights. In Being the Ricardos, however, her performance is flat and one-note, often failing to simultaneously convey a slew of emotional notes.
When she learns of Desi’s infidelity, her face should convey disbelief or anger. However, it is so nonchalant it feels unimportant to her, or the audience, even if the film’s “mockumentary” subjects in the present – played by Ronny Cox, John Rubinstein and Linda Lavin – say that the overall week was stressful for everyone, including Lucille, whose emotional toll was too overwhelming for her that it was hard to contain. Kidman constantly berates the director, writers, co-stars, and producers without an ounce of nuance or emotional impact, as if the audience will ever sympathise with someone who does not warrant any sympathy. For some odd reason, Sorkin constantly uses the F-word that adds no “punch” to the script, save for J.K. Simmons’ spot-on-line deliveries, as he channels his inner J. Jonah Jameson to make us all laugh. Simmons and Bardem seem to be the only actors who give a damn in this, with the latter holding down the entire fort together.
Bardem looks nothing like Arnaz, but he can light up any scene, any time, whether he is imitating a schmaltzy musical number of a 1940s RKO picture or being the person that holds the entire production’s sanity together. He is an excellent asset to an otherwise forgettable film and manages to elevate any formulaic material Sorkin has written. Bardem knows how to infuse charisma during suitable scenes and dramatic tension whenever the script warrants it. He seems to be the only actor who understands that it takes more than a standard performance to lift a script this poorly written, and J.K. Simmons’ usual schtick will bring a smile to anyone’s face.
This is the third film Sorkin directs and the third one to have little to no aesthetic sensibilities. A good movie cannot solely rely on its script and performances, but it needs compelling cinematography to pull the audience into the experience. The feature’s photography is as drab as most digitally shot motion pictures are, with lifeless cinematography both in colour and black and white and no sense of visual dynamism in its editing. As a result, the movie ends up being another lifeless biopic that will be immediately forgotten a week past its release date, especially with Spider-Man: No Way Home dominating movie screens right now.
Being the Ricardos never amounts to anything in particular. It is an uneventful, unfocused, and worst of all, terribly dull biopic that says absolutely nothing of interest on Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz’s tumultuous relationship together and the scandals that jeopardised its marriage. Sorkin has no idea what he wants to say on the story, or any of the characters, that he fills an overlong film with pointless sequences set in the past and a mockumentary style in the “present”, that add no emotion or nuance to the performances from its star-studded cast. If it were not for Javier Bardem and J.K. Simmons keeping the entirety of the film going on their own, the movie would be completely pointless. However, because of them, it is only mildly pointless. Go figure.