How disappointing it is when you see a movie that you were looking forward to only to walk away unimpressed, if not largely disappointed. So it is with director Pamela Adlon’s debut feature, a comedy-drama about the wild and crazy relationship between two lifelong thirtysomething New York BFFs (Ilana Glazer, Michelle Buteau) who share the experiences of pregnancy, childbirth and parenthood while struggling to maintain the kind of free-spirited friendship they had before becoming mothers. The narrative consists of a series of vignettes – some outrageous, some touching, some serious – involving various aspects of their connection, their individual lives and their interactions with others. Unfortunately, these episodes are wildly inconsistent, regardless of their nature. Some work well (especially, surprisingly enough, those that get unapologetically down and dirty with unbridled raunchy humor), but most others fall stunningly flat for a variety of reasons. The biggest problem here is the writing, which frequently tries far too hard to make the material work. Some segments simply aren’t funny, relying on excessive exhausting mugging and overacting to win over audience members and unsuccessfully persuade them otherwise. Others are utterly preposterous and implausible (despite trying to come across as “zany” or “outrageous”), lacking credibility in terms of plot devices, character development and story flow. And others still are just plain inauthentic, particularly when driven by the strained chemistry between the two often-immature leads, whose supposed bond simply isn’t convincing. What’s more, when the film unsuccessfully tries to turn serious, scenes that are supposed to move and touch viewers don’t work, because the film doesn’t do enough to engender sufficient interest in the protagonists, their challenges or their relationship with one another. To its credit, the film features some fine performances by supporting cast members (John Carroll Lynch, Stephan James, Elena Ouspenskaia), but the leads grow progressively tiresome, especially the longer the movie drones on. In short, “Babes” is a big misfire that fails to deliver despite a few modest laughs along the way. Best bet for this one? Wait for it to come to streaming.

CinemaSerf

Aug 17, 2024

6.0

The about to give birth "Dawn" (Michelle Buteau) is married to the perfectly manscaped "Marty" (Hasan Minhaj) and is best friends with "Eden" (Ilana Glazer) who is keen on having a baby but so far lacks a suitable sperm donor. That all changes, though, when she encounters the charming "Claude" (Stephan James) on the train and, thinking her period is sure fire protection against getting pregnant, they have some fun. She is smitten, but he disappears without a trace and she just chalks it up to experience. A few months later, though, she gets quite a shock and what now ensues sees the friendship she has with "Dawn" quite seriously tested, yada yada. There's nothing new to this at all, and after the first twenty minutes of serious over-acting and a scene where a waiter concerned that the amniotic fluid leaking over the floor of his restaurant might not be that hygienic - and it designated a "woman hater", the stall was set out for this frankly quite puerile attempt at comedy. It's structured just as if it's a couple episodes of a mediocre sitcom interspersed by a stand-up routine style narrative from writer Glazer that rehashes a tired girl-power mentality that stopped being funny thirty years ago. I didn't care if their friendship worked or didn't: there's no effort to develop the characters and frankly I'm not surprised "Claude" took an early bath from these proceedings. I'm not really a fan of these buddy-comedies that take a relationship that supposedly works, break it, then try to put "Humpty" together again for the sake of an ending we could all see from space, and this is another off a conveyor belt completely devoid of originality.

I wish Hollywood would give us more movies like “Babes,” a female-driven comedy that doesn’t hold back. Directed by Pamela Adlon and co-written by Ilana Glazer and Josh Rabinowitz, this outrageous look at pregnancy, motherhood, and female friendship is absolutely hilarious. The humor here is raw, crass, and completely unapologetic, which makes it hard not to laugh at the absurdity of it all, even when the subject matter gets pretty uncomfortable. Childhood best friends Eden (Glazer) and Dawn (Michelle Buteau) are navigating very different stages in life. Eden is single and really wants to have a baby, and she decides to go it alone after a one-night stand leaves her pregnant. Meanwhile, Dawn is juggling motherhood, work, and the exhaustion that comes with it. Their bond is tested when Eden’s decision to pursue pregnancy on her own shakes up their friendship in unexpected ways. This isn’t a film where you have to be a parent to “get” the humor, as it’s surprisingly universal. The dialogue is loaded with crude jokes and one-liners, from the constant use of swear words to the endless references to bodily functions. It’s raw, it’s real, and it’s definitely not for the faint of heart. But through all the vulgarity and awkward moments, the heart of the movie lies in the beautiful mess of this tried and true friendship, one that’s as flawed as it is powerful. Eden and Dawn have a bond that’s full of love, support, and a lot of really questionable decisions (like doing mushrooms to solve pregnancy problems). What really stands out is how the film explores the complexities of camaraderie and motherhood with a surprising amount of tenderness. These two women are deeply supportive of each other, even when things get chaotic. Dawn’s role as a mom is exhausting but relatable, and Eden’s decision to embrace single motherhood on her own terms is refreshing and inspiring, even if it’s a bit over-the-top at times. There’s a solid message about how family isn’t just about your shared DNA, but more about the people who stick with you through thick and thin. An offbeat comedy with a huge heart, “Babes” is about accepting flaws and embracing the messiness of life. By: Louisa Moore / SCREEN ZEALOTS