Ricki and the Flash

The utterly odd and dizzyingly delightful new Jonathan Demme film, "Ricki and the Flash," fucks with genre-expectation, traditional familial roles as well as the use of music in cinema. All that, and it's a damn fun time as well! Of course, much of that has to do with the fact that its star, Meryl Streep, could read mathematical equations for two hours and make it riveting.

The sharp, savvy script is by Oscar-winner Diablo Cody, who was responsible for the egregiously overlooked "Young Adult," from a few years back. Cody writes great roles for women and isn't afraid to give them real and believable flaws. (And it's a shame I felt the need to write that sentence in 2015, but as far as we've come, we have so much further to go when it comes to giving female artists their due.)

Streep plays Ricki Rendazzo (her stage name), a bit of a hot mess (she dresses like Cher after a bender) at an age when women should really have their shit together -- according to our male-dominated society, anyway.

Ricki left her family a couple of decades ago to head off to California and follow her dream of being a rock star. But it didn't quite turn out to be the life of Pat Benatar. She had one album that tanked and has been playing gigs in a half-empty bar most night doing covers of Pink, Lady Gaga, U2 and The Rolling Stones. She barely supports herself by working at a Whole Foods-type store, where she is forced by her super-silly, super-young manager to smile and not irritate the customers. Ricki is involved with a fellow band member, Greg (sexy and appealing Rick Springfield), who wants more from the relationship than Ricki is willing to give (Cody flipping the switch on the usual trope of the man not wanting to commit).

Estranged from her family, Ricki is contacted by her ex-husband, Pete (Kevin Kline, dapper and dandy), with news that their daughter, Julie (Streep's real daughter, Mamie Gummer), is severely depressed after breaking up with her beau. Reluctantly, Ricki heads off to Indiana to see if she can offer any help.

Julie, it turns out, has attempted suicide and greets her mom with an honest mixture of anger and joy. Ricki's two sons, Adam (Nick Westrate) and Josh (Sebastian Stan), have mixed feelings about her return. Snippy Adam is gay and has never felt accepted for whom he is by his mother. Bland Josh is about to marry a socialite of sorts, and isn't sure he wants mom at the wedding. Add Pete's calm and lovely current wife, Maureen (Audra McDonald), to all that plot and you can see just how messy things might get.

Director Demme keeps the action moving, but allows everyone his or her respective moments.

Surprisingly (in a great way), a lot of screen time is devoted to Ricki performing with The Flash. From the rousing cover of the Tom Petty classic "American Girl" to Ricki's poignant rendition of Bruce Springsteen's "My Love Will Not Let You Down," we get to know Ricki and how she pours herself into her craft. She may not being playing stadiums or concert halls, but she devotes all her energy into song interpretation. An original composition, "Cold One," provides an affecting moment for Ricki and her daughter midway through the movie.

Of course, Streep's commitment to character is what allows us inside Ricki's psyche through her music. The actress also learned to play a mean guitar for the film -- this lady does nothing half-assed.

Streep can play the shit out of a role, as evidenced in borderline campy turns in "Doubt" and "Mamma Mia." But here she chooses, for the most part, to allow understatement, nuance and subtext to wash over her embodiment of Ricki, and the results are often sublime.

When she isn't performing, Ricki can be a bit unbearable. She's makes racist and homophobic comments and, like many rock stars successful and otherwise, has a sizeable ego and likes things her way. She's also always complaining that she has no money -- a terrifically real touch Cody adds (don't we all have someone in our lives that is constantly complaining of being broke?).

And once she's back in Indiana, she's instantly jealous of Maureen's relationship with her kids. These two powerhouse actresses (Streep and McDonald) have an explosive scene together that make the viewer wish more time had been devoted to these titans clashing.

In addition, the chemistry between Kline and Streep is palpable. The two have worked together many times, including Kline's first film, "Sophie's Choice" (which garnered Streep her second Oscar), and on Robert Altman's lovely final film, "A Prairie Home Companion." Here it's easy to see how this odd couple was once happy together, but how it quickly turned stifling for Ricki.

Up until this film, Mamie Gummer has lived in her mother's shadow when it comes to her screen portrayals. It can't be easy being the daughter of arguably (but who's really going to argue?) the greatest actor of her generation. But here Gummer finally pushes her way into her own, creating a dynamic, fascinating young woman in terrible emotional pain, craving motherly attention. In the wrong hands, Julie could have easily been an unsympathetic, surly, pain-the-the-ass. Gummer brings such shading to her that one wishes she had more screen time as well.

Screenwriter Cody gives Ricki a terrific moment where she protests the artist double standard that says that a father can leave his family and pursue his career with understanding and little repercussions, but if a mother does the same, she is vilified. It's a more than valid argument. Rock goddess Stevie Nicks has gone on record stating she felt she had to choose between having a family and having a career. She chose the latter, while her fellow (male) Fleetwood Mac bandmates were able to have both. Do you need a penis to pursue your dream in this country? Even today?

The message of female empowerment, though, does not in any way turn into a polemic. Cody is too smart for that, and while her zingy script (which pays literal homage to "Born Yesterday") follows the Hollywood blueprint, she's constantly inverting it. The finale, without giving too much away, is a great example: Ricki gives a gift to her son at his wedding and, suddenly, as is expected in these films, the picture is perfect, right down to everyone dancing in unison. But the truth is Ricki has just hijacked the event and made it about her. Her gift is heartfelt, certainly, but in keeping with the character's main trait, it's also incredibly self-indulgent. And that's bloody refreshing to experience.