I went to see this film at the weekend and enjoyed it, as other knit bloggers have done. I enjoyed all the acting, not just that of Meryl Streep who played Julia Childs for all she was worth at times. Julie's and Julia's stories segued fairly neatly from one to the other for most of the film. Both true stories, both adapted at times and some fiction added in made an enjoyable film.
I had forgotten about the paranoia of Macarthyism. Reds under beds and much more. Lucille Ball from I Love Lucy and her husband Desi Arnaz were among many show business people who were investigated at the time.
Aaargh! the smoking, even at the dinner table. I hate the smell of cigarette smoke and can't imagine what all that much smoke must have done to the beautiful food she made. I remember lots of people smoking, it was culturally acceptable then. My dad smoked for many years. However, I do not remember anyone ever smoking at the dinner table.
I became engrossed in the film. It was a shock when I emerged into bright spring sunshine and I realised I was in neither New York nor Paris, but in the street outside Hornsby Westfield. That feeling pretty well sums up all I felt about the film. I did enjoy it and I did become absorbed in the character and the story line.