text: This kind of "inspirational" saccharine is enough to make you sick. It telegraphs its sentiments like the biggest semaphore on earth. It removes from the audience its own interpretation and feeling by making the choices for it. The big finish is swimming in weeping orchestration that must supposed to work like jumper cables on a dead car; I guess you'd need such prompting to feel if you're stupid enough to watch a film as simple-minded and sappy as this. Streep glows and you wonder if she really has the depth of feeling on display or if it's just that---a display, switched on and off like a light. Because I can't for the life of me see how she could possibly find life in such a dud of film. Even though it's based on a true story, and an inspirational one at that I'm sure, the set-up, execution and performances play like a third-rate TV movie or half-witted high school drama.