A delusional New York socialite (Meryl Streep), a great patron of the musical arts with one of the most horrendous, glass shattering voices on the face of the planet, is able to secure singing gigs all the way up to Carnegie Hall thanks both to her status and charity but also to the doting of her loving, philandering husband (Hugh Grant). Florence Foster Jenkins is the kind of substanceless mush that lately seems to always secure Streep a nomination (even when she's nothing to write home about) and, maybe even the bigger headscratcher is director Stephen Frear's involvement, working way below his talent level. That being said, Grant is quite good in a touching, pointed performance and is the film's only saving grace.
** out of ****
