Six words on the road to an Oscar:  “Meryl-Streep-historical figure-British accent.” 

The movie opens on an elderly woman shuffling her way to a grocer’s counter to purchase a carton of milk – 49 pence – a surprising amount to her.  But what’s startling to us is that this woman is Margaret Thatcher with dementia. And Margaret Thatcher (Meryl Streep) with dementia is not supposed to be out of the house.  For many years she shared her home in England’s posh Belgravia neighborhood with her husband Sir Dennis (Jim Broadbent) and she talks to him upon her return to share a cup of tea.  He’s there…we’re certain.  Except he’s dead. 

She keeps busy in her present day world or at least imagines that she is. Certain she has book signings, concerts to attend, hands to shake. In her younger years she claimed “Life must matter….I’m not going to die from washing out a tea cup.” And she probably never changed a diaper either. Her children were clearly not her priority.

But her glory years in flashback are charming…dancing to the King and I, her various elections, and Dennis’s marital proposal when she lost the 1979 campaign…  Her flashbacks are as much as her reign as England’s first female Prime Minister are “a Left-wing fantasy.” The film clearly depicts the peoples’ love of her voice – delivering all that power – in her signature blue suit especially during the Falklands conflict and the miners’ strike. 

Streep becomes Thatcher in the film – literally every bit of body movement and mannerism, though we’ve heard that shrill-y-ish voice before (her Julia Child performance).  Streep gives the role much dignity and then delivers it with the right dose of stiff-upper-lip of determination.  Her performance is an Oscar-worthy Tour de force and the character’s dementia plays on our sympathies, but it remains a charmless film (with a very appropriate title.)  And, just how does the history of the Prime Minister translate to American culture? We aren’t familiar with her policies, only where they intercepted with Ronald Regan.   Though one would agree with her sentiment: “Brits are formed by history.  Americans are formed by philosophies.  What can be…” 

Biographies are usually released after a person’s death, and since Thatcher is very much alive, one has to wonder if Margaret might put on her favorite cobalt blue suit, grab a Pepsi, a bucket of popcorn and sneak into the Oxford cinema.  And why not?  How bad can it be to be portrayed by Oscar winner Meryl Streep?  Thatcher might enjoy it but certainly won’t remember it.  Three tiaras