If you’ve ever watched one episode of I Love Lucy — whether you liked it or not — you will appreciate Being the Ricardos. But you probably won’t love it.
For the big fans of the original ‘50s sitcom, they might struggle for a bit at the sight of Nicole Kidman and Javier Bardem attempting to recreate the iconic personas that Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz engraved into history. But nobody in the universe can ever perfectly reenact Lucy’s funny, whiny “WAH” or Ricky’s “Lucy, I’m home.”
Being the Ricardos gives exactly what the world never got from I Love Lucy — reality. As most recall, Lucy and Ricky slept in separate beds and never ever uttered the word “pregnant.” It was a cardinal sin on television in 1950s America. But the Amazon Prime biopic finally gives us a glimpse into how Desi and Lucille brought her real-life pregnancy to the screen. Kidman’s Lucille even has the nonchalant bravery to say how she got pregnant in a discussion with network executives.
But what was so convincing was Kidman’s method of getting into Lucille’s head — the Lucille we never met onscreen, but the one off-screen who apparently wasn’t afraid to take the reigns on a situation even more than her husband (which was a big deal in that era). And Bardem embraced Desi’s musical talent skillfully. Recreating “Babalou” must have taken a lot out of him, but he nailed it.
What was even better, though, were the recreations of Vivian Vance and William Frawley, aka Fred and Ethel Mertz. For those who weren't aware, the real-life actors despised each other. However, Vivian and Lucille were supposedly good friends, and Being the Ricardos showed that in the most minor details, like the effective scenes about Vivian’s weight loss.
When Vivian figures out that Lucille was the one who sent a staff writer in to bring her a tray of hearty food, it’s personal. We never really got to know Vivian, as she was always just seen as Lucy’s smart-mouthed sidekick. But the two scenes — the first when Vivian receives the carb-filled tray, and the second when she confronts Lucille on her attempt at an intervention — where we got to understand what it was like for a “normal-looking” actress in that time.
Sure, it’s great knowing audiences like that relatable image in an actor, but when it’s you in those shoes, it doesn’t feel so great if you’re working in the most dog-eat-dog town, in a patriarchal, oppressive, and judgmental society. Thanks to actress Nina Arianda‘s Vivian, we got to see that.
And what could possibly be better than this spotlight on Vivian? — the spotlight on the female staff writer, Madelyn Pugh (played by Alia Shawkat). Although it's only for a brief time, she seems to have a durable, trustworthy bond with Kidman's Lucille. Madelyn’s voice matters to Lucille, and it’s refreshing to see her impact on the others and the production process unfurl.
J. K. Simmons’ William, while not as emphasized, is nevertheless a strong representation. Grabbing a drink with Lucille for a break was a decent choice because it conveyed how much Lucille really trusted her costars.
All in all, the real kicker in this flick was how heavily director Aaron Sorkin emphasized Lucille‘s on-set behavior. Instead of revealing Desi’s alcoholism (with just one snarky reference from Lucille as she sits by their pool, drinking away the pang of rejection), the movie mainly shows Lucille’s finicky, picky, micro-managerialism during one week’s table read and rehearsals.
This is what confused some viewers — wasn’t Desi the primary problem in their story? The movie acknowledges that but reveals how determined Kidman’s Lucille is to “save“ her marriage, as she points that out more than once, both out-loud and through her actions.
Desperate to battle the critics calling her a “Communist” and to salvage her marriage, Lucille needs to get everything in this episode perfect. Preparing the dinner table’s centerpiece must be part of the comedy; Lucy should be able to hear Ricky’s sneaky entrance — several so-called minor details are blown up by Lucille as she voices her opinion on how to improve the whole scene.
This is precisely what conveys the authority that Lucille carried, and Kidman temporarily resurrects her to show us this.