Movie Review: Julie & Julia
It’s a funny thing about life; even though we’re all (obstensibly) unique, certain experiences fall into distinct patterns. Most middle-class children in the western world, for instance, go through a period in their childhood where the world revolves around them, followed by a period in their teenage years where they’re convinced it should and are surprised when it doesn’t. This leads to a period of intense self-reflection, during which they discover their place in the world and are shocked again some years later when that place doesn’t welcome them with open arms either.
In Julie & Julia, Amy Adams’ character, Julie Powell, is in that directionless place between shock and reaction when she decides to give herself one year to cook all 524 recipes in Mastering the Art of French Cooking, and if you’re in the same place, or recently past it, you’ll probably identify with her.
Another stage many adults find themselves in, and which people of Julie’s age hope to avoid, is that of the middle-aged, middle-class (or upper-middle-class) person who suddenly realizes they haven’t accomplished anything. Sure they’ve survived, but they still don’t recognize their place in the world, nor have they experienced anything they could call a “dream.”
