Showing pregnancy like a psychological obstacle course was a terrific comedic premise from director-writer Patrick Braoudé, what's more based on his own wife's experience, truth to life would be the torchlight to this exploration of both mental and physical torments that affect couples during the titular "Nine Months".
So I had high expectations when the film started with that black screen, the white credits and the jazzy music, feeling that Braoudé was channeling a certain American director who specialized in neurotic characters. The comparaison isn't fortuitous as Braoudé uses a great deal of Yiddish music all through his ordeal as a father-to-be maybe to emphasize the coming-of-age cultural gravity of a heir and his incapability to cope with it. As he utters continuously: "I'm destabilized".
And "Nine Months" contains genuinely funny and poignant moments showing that loss of balance in pure Allenian style and so it's a shame that Braoudé surrendered to one of French comedy's worst symptoms: abandoning any ambition for meaningfulness for the sake of farcical zaniness. All the good humor in the film is ruined by over-the-top gags that are more intrusive than harmonic with the whole emotional narrative, as if Braoudé didn't trust his own material.
That problem is foreshadowed in the very first scene where Samuel (Braoudé), naturally a psychoanalyst, complains about "kids these days" and shares with his wife Mathilde (Philippine Leroy-Baulieu) how overrated parenthood is. But Mathilde announces she's pregnant. The car gets off the road and veers at a diaper factory. The punchline is cute but how would any viewer feel about a pregnant woman involved in an accident? My partner just lost her foetus by skidding on ice so I didn't find it funny.
These kind of visual jokes derail the comedy from the overall realism a theme like pregnancy requires. It could have been accidental misguidedness but then Braoudé strikes again with that taxi cab that delivers pregnant women and drives as if it came from "Cannonball Run". Pregnancy should be handled like a pregnant woman, a bad joke can be as fatal as a false move. Overall, the comedy works because there's something sweet and likable in Braoudé, we believe his self-doubt not just because doubt is part of his job but because he can't internally rationalize an event that deprives him from his 'self-centered' habits.
That mix of narcissism and pathos are very well captured in the sad eyes and stammering voice of Braoudé who's even a less annoying version of Allen. And as his partner in life, Mathilde doesn't overplay the straight part, she has doubts too but wants to carry on... that until she gets tired of Braoudé's selfishness. The depiction of the couple interactions is spot-on but the real masterstroke is to have a second couple; Daniel Russo (also co-writer) and Catherine Jacob as George and Dominique, in their fourth pregnancy, they know all the tricks and through them we root for Mathilde andforgive Samuel while laughing at their impressive libido (and in that department I could relate to George, he's right about pregnancy having some good aspects).
When the "veterans" spot the early signs of pregnancy on the rookies who desperately try to hide it, the film offers one of its first hilarious moments, one that only relied on body and eye language. The chemistry between the two couples is the cement of the film. Jacob is both touching and witty as the mentor-figure helping Mathilde to overcome her fears and Russo is the friend Samuel needed, and together they have a wonderful 'analysis' scene where roles are reversed while couches are lowered. Both Jacob and Russo would be nominated for the Césars of Best Supporting performances.
Casting-wise, Patrick Bouchitey was underused as the recent celibate with a new fling for younger women while Pascal Légitimus is overused, acting as if the film was a spoof. He made such a bad impression as a doctor I wish it could have been redeemed during the delivery, instead he's acting like a DJ commenting a wrestling match. I loved the 'dog faces' moment between Russo and Jacob (you could tell she was breaking off character) but then the fight between the two fathers intercut with frantic "Yes" made me pray for my ears.
And when the mess stopped, I couldn't forgive that Braoudé didn't gratify us with one tender moment with the two couples and their babies as if wives have served their purposes and it was time for a final gag with the two dads. When the doctor was constantly referring to the father as the pregnant one, it was funny in a clever way but while the film makes a point of how hard it is to be a father, it should have let the women have the last word. A good ending could have contributed to a better lasting impression but Braoudé went full farcical, again.
This is a good film to watch in state of pregnancy to laugh at the little peculiarities that govern marital life during these last months, in a span of one month, I learned that my partner is pregnant again and so is my ex-wife so don't ask me how I feel. Braoudé had a terrific material in his hands but while comedy should allow us to take life matters lightly because they're serious, sometimes it totally derails the film from its theme. We don't laugh at women wetting themselves in a waiting room because it's ridiculous but because we can relate to them.
Another moment is when Mathilde is depressed and Dominique asks George to make her laugh, the man in all business suit makes a backward dive into the swimming pool. The gag isn't the dive but the desperate yet brave improvisation. I felt Braoudé directed his film with similar instinct, incapable to disguise his insecurity as a director, that attitude made him so likable and huggable as Samuel, but quite blamable as the director.
So I had high expectations when the film started with that black screen, the white credits and the jazzy music, feeling that Braoudé was channeling a certain American director who specialized in neurotic characters. The comparaison isn't fortuitous as Braoudé uses a great deal of Yiddish music all through his ordeal as a father-to-be maybe to emphasize the coming-of-age cultural gravity of a heir and his incapability to cope with it. As he utters continuously: "I'm destabilized".
And "Nine Months" contains genuinely funny and poignant moments showing that loss of balance in pure Allenian style and so it's a shame that Braoudé surrendered to one of French comedy's worst symptoms: abandoning any ambition for meaningfulness for the sake of farcical zaniness. All the good humor in the film is ruined by over-the-top gags that are more intrusive than harmonic with the whole emotional narrative, as if Braoudé didn't trust his own material.
That problem is foreshadowed in the very first scene where Samuel (Braoudé), naturally a psychoanalyst, complains about "kids these days" and shares with his wife Mathilde (Philippine Leroy-Baulieu) how overrated parenthood is. But Mathilde announces she's pregnant. The car gets off the road and veers at a diaper factory. The punchline is cute but how would any viewer feel about a pregnant woman involved in an accident? My partner just lost her foetus by skidding on ice so I didn't find it funny.
These kind of visual jokes derail the comedy from the overall realism a theme like pregnancy requires. It could have been accidental misguidedness but then Braoudé strikes again with that taxi cab that delivers pregnant women and drives as if it came from "Cannonball Run". Pregnancy should be handled like a pregnant woman, a bad joke can be as fatal as a false move. Overall, the comedy works because there's something sweet and likable in Braoudé, we believe his self-doubt not just because doubt is part of his job but because he can't internally rationalize an event that deprives him from his 'self-centered' habits.
That mix of narcissism and pathos are very well captured in the sad eyes and stammering voice of Braoudé who's even a less annoying version of Allen. And as his partner in life, Mathilde doesn't overplay the straight part, she has doubts too but wants to carry on... that until she gets tired of Braoudé's selfishness. The depiction of the couple interactions is spot-on but the real masterstroke is to have a second couple; Daniel Russo (also co-writer) and Catherine Jacob as George and Dominique, in their fourth pregnancy, they know all the tricks and through them we root for Mathilde andforgive Samuel while laughing at their impressive libido (and in that department I could relate to George, he's right about pregnancy having some good aspects).
When the "veterans" spot the early signs of pregnancy on the rookies who desperately try to hide it, the film offers one of its first hilarious moments, one that only relied on body and eye language. The chemistry between the two couples is the cement of the film. Jacob is both touching and witty as the mentor-figure helping Mathilde to overcome her fears and Russo is the friend Samuel needed, and together they have a wonderful 'analysis' scene where roles are reversed while couches are lowered. Both Jacob and Russo would be nominated for the Césars of Best Supporting performances.
Casting-wise, Patrick Bouchitey was underused as the recent celibate with a new fling for younger women while Pascal Légitimus is overused, acting as if the film was a spoof. He made such a bad impression as a doctor I wish it could have been redeemed during the delivery, instead he's acting like a DJ commenting a wrestling match. I loved the 'dog faces' moment between Russo and Jacob (you could tell she was breaking off character) but then the fight between the two fathers intercut with frantic "Yes" made me pray for my ears.
And when the mess stopped, I couldn't forgive that Braoudé didn't gratify us with one tender moment with the two couples and their babies as if wives have served their purposes and it was time for a final gag with the two dads. When the doctor was constantly referring to the father as the pregnant one, it was funny in a clever way but while the film makes a point of how hard it is to be a father, it should have let the women have the last word. A good ending could have contributed to a better lasting impression but Braoudé went full farcical, again.
This is a good film to watch in state of pregnancy to laugh at the little peculiarities that govern marital life during these last months, in a span of one month, I learned that my partner is pregnant again and so is my ex-wife so don't ask me how I feel. Braoudé had a terrific material in his hands but while comedy should allow us to take life matters lightly because they're serious, sometimes it totally derails the film from its theme. We don't laugh at women wetting themselves in a waiting room because it's ridiculous but because we can relate to them.
Another moment is when Mathilde is depressed and Dominique asks George to make her laugh, the man in all business suit makes a backward dive into the swimming pool. The gag isn't the dive but the desperate yet brave improvisation. I felt Braoudé directed his film with similar instinct, incapable to disguise his insecurity as a director, that attitude made him so likable and huggable as Samuel, but quite blamable as the director.
