The Iron Lady (2011)

In “The Iron Lady,” a biopic about Britain’s MP Margaret Thatcher, Meryl Streep embodies the loved/hated prime minister with a voice and movements that are amazing to witness. The actress is more than a worthy Oscar winner here, for she is Atlas, hoisting a terrible film upon her shoulders. Director Phyllida Lloyd and writer Abi Morgan dedicate heaps of time to an Alzheimer’s-stricken Thatcher as she talks to her dead husband (Jim Broadbent), who mucks about as if Peter Pan. The undeniably fascinating life of Thatcher, from World War II-era teenager to leader of a superpower, is all rushed flashbacks, snippets with bold-font headlines, half-explanations, and historical characters that run by. The dementia scenes turn into a bad “Ghost” rehash as onscreen Thatcher literally packs a suitcase for dead hubby so he can go off into the light. What utter nonsense. Streep, thankfully, makes every scene she is in shine, from Parliament debates to her vicious and regretted attack of a second-in-command, to the sad elderly years. Nostalgic conservatives will cheer the speeches, cruel liberals will mock the woman chasing her ghost husband because he’s shoeless. B-