Amy Adams, you first came to my attention as the very talkative, very pregnant North Carolinian in 2005’s Junebug. It was the type of scene stealing performance in a small indie film that critics gush over, and it rightfully earned you an Oscar nod for Best Supporting Actress. While the film was forgettable, you were completely charming and reminded me of so many of those sweet-natured Southern belles I knew while living in North Carolina. You next caught my eye in Talladega Nights, and your hilariously sincere “You are Ricky Bobby!” pep talk to Will Ferrell was honored in my inaugural Davies Awards in Film for Best Dramatic Reading of Comedic Line. By this time, Amy, I was smitten. You might even say that with your red hair, blue eyes, mischievous smile, and natural good looks, I was enchanted.
Now, with your lead role in Disney’s Enchanted you’re receiving the most enthusiastic rally for the old “A Star is Born!” title since Julia Roberts waltzed into our collective hearts in Pretty Woman. While the film I have not seen is the type of bubble-gum flavored tripe I typically avoid, I couldn’t be happier for you. Stardom couldn’t happen to a sweeter, more talented gal. You’re the epitome of the American Dream, an Army brat and Mormon girl from Colorado who is making it in big bad Hollywood. You’re like Julie Andrews, Mary Tyler Moore, and Julia Roberts all rolled into one, and your genuine innocence is the perfect spoon full of sugar to make the medicine of this post-modern world go down. You’re the type of female star little girls can look up to and their mothers respect, and that little boys and their fathers can both crush on without shame.
Shucks, Amy, you even got the typically cynical Peter Travers from Rolling Stone to proclaim: “Adams is just the spicy princess you want to take home and PG-love. Not since Julie Andrews rode an umbrella to glory in Mary Poppins has Disney given us such a real-life doll. Adams is the wish your heart makes when you want a storybook princess for the ages. She’s wicked good.”
Golly gee, Amy! America will love you–long time, if you play your cards right! I don’t even care that you look just like Jenna Fischer, the curisously attractive girl from TV’s The Office, or Isla Fisher (not to be confused with Fischer), the smoking hot babe from Wedding Crashers. (Trust me on this one. Google the three of them and I dare you to tell them apart. It’s as if they are the three clashing alters of one woman with MPD.) Amy, you’re the wholesome “girl next door” all the boys will want to marry and the true blue daffy chick every girl wants to be friends with. You’re the pretty girl the soldier grabbed and kissed in that iconic picture from VJ-Day.
Hey! There’s an idea for you–a romantic period piece set during WWII! With Enchanted making beaucoup bucks, you’re bound to be offered countless numbers of romantic comedies and musicals…and go ahead, do them till your heart’s content and your agent and manager are swimming in money and your portfolio is stacked and your family well taken care of. In the words of Robert Duvall in Network, I see them all being “big-titted hits” for you. But don’t forget your indie roots and your acting chops. Choose your serious roles wisely. Show us your range and you will go far. You can bring us to tears if you want, break our hearts, and we’ll love you even more. So while my R-rated dreams will always be haunted by Naomi Watts or Marisa Tomei, you’ll be the new queen of my PG-rated dreams. You may be the next big thing, but you’ll always be my little junebug.
Written by David H. Schleicher
For my review of Junebug, see below:
For a look back on the 1st Annual Davies Awards and the complete list of winners, see below: