Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again
FILM REVIEW
Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again The followup to Mamma Mia! — the film adaptation of the popular musical of the same name, which inexplicably uses the music of ABBA to tell the story of an American raised in a Greek villa by an overalls-clad Meryl Streep (who appears to be drunk throughout the film) — has one of the best subtitles in sequel history: Here We Go Again.
The exclamation mark of Mamma Mia! punctuates the subtitle’s vigour and passiveaggressive defiance: Yes, gosh darn it, the producers seem to declare, we dared to make a followup to this strange movie! And you better spend your hard-earned dollars on it, because none other than the queen of reinvention herself — Cher! — dazzles us with her presence!
“Here We Go Again” could also be read sarcastically, but what would be the fun in that? Remember: Cher!
It’s best to go into Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again with low expectations. The fact that it’s been an abysmally slow movie season makes that task all the easier. Forget about the movie making any sense. After all, Mamma Mia! threw its initial premise — who is Sophie’s (Amanda Seyfried) estranged father? — out the window in favour of a bunch of Westerners singing ABBA in a foreign country. And Here We Go Again continues the tradition with architect Sam (Pierce Brosnan), banker Harry (Colin Firth) and travel writer Bill (Stellan Skarsgård) all agreeing to share status as Sophie’s dad (all-too-practical paternity tests do not exist in this Mediterranean fairy tale), while introducing a mysterious death, that of Sophie’s mom, Donna (Streep).
This is not a spoiler; the film begins in earnest with a serene Sophie planning a hotel reopening to commemorate her deceased mom, who once turned the ramshackle Greek castle into a thriving tourism hot spot. Donna apparently died the year prior, though we’re never told why. To make up for Streep’s absence, Here We Go Again begins a parallel storyline about Donna’s youth, falling in and out of love with Sam, Harry and Bill as she travels the world and settles in Greece. To be fair, delving into Donna’s past life is perfect fodder for the followup film — her wild 1970s love life was an enigma in the original. Lily James has the thankless act of playing the young Donna, and she succeeds in vivaciously embodying the character’s sweetvoiced wanderlust, complete with blond beach waves and a penchant for striped rompers and platform boots.
So many of the Swedish group’s hits were used up in the original that in Here We Go Again the screenwriters are forced to fit in some ABBA’s bizarre deep cuts like When I Kissed the Teacher (in which Donna exuberantly delivers her grad ceremony’s speech before landing a big one on her stodgy headmistress’ face) or stretching lyrics to fit the occasion, like Sophie softly singing Thank You For The Music as she sends out hotel invitations.
Elsewhere, songs are shoehorned in for maximalist musical meaning. I Have A Dream is an obvious selection for the young Donna as she walks through the fixerupper building, imagining the Nancy Meyers hotel it would one day turn into as the in-the-present Sophie is parallel-edited to speak of her own dream: reopening her mom’s hotel. Scared horses, collapsing staircases, thunderstorms and a brief marital spat with Sophie’s husband Sky (Dominic Cooper) provide some basic, temporary stakes for the musical to have anything remotely resembling conflict. The best of these numbers, however, shall not be spoiled here; but I will reveal it involves an unrequited love, a shocked Cher and one of the best ABBA songs of all time. It’s totally worth the fireworks, minimalist choreography and stilted presence of the goddess of pop.
Despite her longer-thanaverage cameo as Sophie’s godmother, flown in ominously via helicopter just to be seen, Cher helps us forget an earlier number where Brosnan’s singing more closely resembles a foghorn. If there’s one thing this franchise is exemplary at, however, it’s the depiction of intergenerational romance. It’s never too old to be in or find love, and Here We Go Again nonchalantly demonstrates that Donna’s best buds Rosie (Julie Walters) and Tanya (Christine Baranski) still have, in the words of the latter, “beating vaginas.”
The older characters’ runins with their younger versions in the closing credits and final number (Dancing Queen) is a strange, extradiegetic mess that makes no sense whatsoever, but perhaps it’s best to think of Mamma Mia! as a karaoke singalong that just happens to be a movie, with a modicum of narrative thrown in for measure. ★★★½