Of course, then we disagreed. I thought Meryl Streep, whose performance has been praised to the heavens even by those who didn’t like the movie, went all Julia Child when she slipped out of Maggie mode. My aunt, a Brit who experienced the Thatcher years first hand, thought la Meryl was reprising her Devil Wears Prada role.
Where we both found common ground yet again was in lambasting the script, which we agreed made it look like Thatcher was some ditzy ingenue, who just happened to become prime minister because she was an ambitious young thing. It bordered on ludicrous.
My aunt didn’t like the depiction of Baroness Thatcher’s dementia either, mainly because she doesn’t believe in making biopics about the living, which she says is just wrong. I, on the other hand, thought that was the best and most realistic part of the movie.
Despite my major misgivings, I can’t tell you not to see this movie especially if you’re interested in the Iron Lady and the era she was in command.