The challenge in weaving together multiple stories in one film is that each should be able to stand on its own, as well as complement the others. Unfortunately, Julie & Julia presents two disjointed tales that make for an uneven and awkward comedic drama.

The film chronicles New York secretary Julie Powell’s (Amy Adams) unusual and seemingly impossible experiment to create all 524 recipes from Julia Child’s Mastering The Art of French Cooking within 365 days. Adding to the challenge, Powell decides to create a blog and record the journey. Through the “Julie/Julia Project,” Powell wittily describes her adventures with every perfect pot roast and culinary catastrophe over the course of one year.

Interspersed with this is the story of Child (Meryl Streep) in 1950s France as she first becomes acquainted with the cuisine that makes her a legend. Child begins the film simply as a bored housewife yearning for something more. Her interest in food and French cooking quickly leads to her becoming the first female student in the prestigious Le Cordon Bleu cooking school, and eventually, a world-renowned chef, author and television star.

Streep perfectly captures Child’s exaggerated style and mannerisms in an undoubtedly Oscar-worthy performance. Her infectious optimism, likeable personality and relatable experiences are all expertly conveyed. Regrettably, Child’s story becomes pushed into the background of Powell’s journey.

Basing the screenplay on both a memoir of Powell’s experiences and Child’s autobiography My Life in France, writer-director Nora Ephron attempts to blend the two into one cohesive story. Although there are a few similarities between the two women (their love of cooking, struggles with recognition, and passion for butter, to name a few), the film lacks the seamless connection Ephron attempts to convey.

Through this forced fusion, Ephron completely misses the basic points of what makes each so enjoyable to read about. In her blog, Powell is hilariously self-deprecating (“This cosmic confluence of ineptness and shit luck is the essential quality of my life”) and enjoyably clever with her food descriptions. On screen, however, this translates to near-constant meltdowns. Adams’ character is the complete opposite of Streep’s — the younger woman is narcissistic, overly dramatic and often hysterical.

Powell also looks to Child’s life for wisdom and inspiration throughout the film. However, by the end, what began as simple admiration turns into an obsession as creepy as that of any music groupie.

On the other hand, the story of Child’s rise to fame seems to require more than a background role. The act of actually creating recipes is far more interesting to see than simply recreating them.

The constant shift between Powell and Child also makes each story appear uneven. Plot lines are rushed and, even with a strong performance by Streep, neither story is able to stand alone. Viewers are left feeling as if someone threw in the perfect ingredients without ever bothering to find out what made the dish so satisfying in the first place.

Reach reporter Julian Martin at arts@dailyuw.com.