kellaroot

Maxine”—she remains unnamed in the credits, but there is no question of who the character is based on—is played by a vivacious, ginger-coated animal actor named Terry, with sass and a jaunty trot. Terry is a fine cat, well-trained, who manages to make the character of “Maxine” likeable, memorable, and not too cutesy—quite a feat given the limitations of the script. Terry has a couple of important scenes: She is masterful, for instance, as the watchful kitty who first notices the boeuf bourguignon is burning while “Julie Powell” lays passed out on the couch after too many gimlets (that part is totally true, by the way). But the role reflects very little of the real Maxine. It’s not just that the two felines look nothing alike—Maxine was, in her prime, a zaftig girl, white with cunning black spots; Terry, I suspect, is a tom. It’s also that Nora had no time, given the ambitious double storyline of the movie, to invest “Maxine” with much in the way of character. What we see is not the sardonic, complicated, talented cat of my longtime acquaintance, but a sweet, thin, red-headed doll of a thing who watches old episodes of The French Chef with her head pertly cocked, as if to echo the words of her owner, “Julie Powell,” regarding Julia Child: “Isn’t she adorable?