Mamma Mia! is a cinematic act of emotional terrorism

The first time I saw Mamma Mia! I was 23. I got dressed up, drove downtown with my family, and celebrated my dad and aunt's birthday in a way we all knew how: by enjoying a reasonably-priced dinner before descending on the theatre, all while primped, pressed, and prepared for an evening of ABBA-soundtracked hijinx via the majesty of Mamma Mia!

And at the time, I thought it was delightful.

I celebrated the plot points, the disco, and the fact that my family members are not the type to stand up and dance or sing, thank god. And then, despite the movie not being quite as magical as the stage production, I celebrated that Meryl Streep is so good at acting that she's able to ignore how terrible Pierce Brosnan is at singing.

And then I got older and realized that Mamma Mia! is less a fictional tale and more an exercise in emotional terrorism. Here's why.

Sophie is a sociopath

Despite Meryl Streep (her character's name doesn't matter, what matters is that she is Meryl Streep) raising Sophie all alone on an island far away, Sophie gives into conventional gender norms and believes only her father can give her away at her wedding.

Which, like, come on. But on top of perpetuating an arguably archaic tradition, Sophie reaches deep into her mother's past and reaches out to three men she believes could have fathered her. She doesn't care about the circumstances under which they met and parted. She doesn't care that this could perpetually traumatize her mother. She doesn't care that she has no idea who these men are, and they could easily be sociopaths in her own right (although that would explain Sophie's behaviour a little bit better). Instead, she makes an idiot error fuelled by selfishness and idiocy. And then we all have to hear Pierce Brosnan sing.

Harry, Sam, and Bill are unhinged for showing up in the first place

I don't know what year Mamma Mia! is set. And I don't care because regardless of what the answer is, phones exist. Which means that after receiving this letter, Harry, Sam, and Bill had more than enough time to find Meryl Streep's contact information (believing the letters had been sent from her) and call her on the phone like grown-ass adults.

Can you imagine boarding a boat/plane/whatever and setting out to meet your ex-lover and the person they claim is your child? Without hearing the person's voice? Without confirming the logistics of the trip? While holding only a letter? A handwritten letter? Which serial killers tend to send?

All the friends are bad

All of them. Sophie's friends should've heard about her hair-brained scheme and called her out for her being a ghoul. Meryl Streep's friends should've heard about the arrival of her exes and quietly ushered them off the island and into the cold depths of hell from which they came.

If one of my friends told me she sent letters to her mom's exes claiming to be her and invited them to their daughter's wedding, I would assume she was acting out so dramatically because deep down, she didn't want to get married at all. And then, after quietly warning Meryl Streep about her own impending emotional hurricane, I would suggest maybe we go for a walk and talk about what's really happening, where this came from, why she wrote letters instead of using the telephone, and whether it's a question of realizing that getting married at like, 19, is starting to feel understandably smothering.

And then I would take her to a Pizza Hut because revelations are always had over a good lunch buffet.

Don't get me started on Meryl Streep's friends who think singing and dancing are going to get her through this disaster.

The fiance is a disappointment at best

IT'S NOT ABOUT YOU, SKY. DAMN IT, MAN.

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