Review of Motherhood (2009) by Michael C — 19 Oct 2009

Bland, boring, and pointless. Motherhood is a disjointed realization of an okay idea.

It's readily apparent that the producers of this film are either flapjacked ignoramuses or apathetic douchebags right within the first 5 minutes. Uma Thurman is reading an advertisement for a contest, whose deadline reads (in huge on-screen text) "12 PM Midnight." It's a heinous mistake as it is, but when you consider that this thing went through at least a few hundred people over the course of its pre-release lifespan, it's utterly horrifying that something so dumb could make it all the way to the film's release.

The film lacks any kind of style of its own as it trudges along aimlessly first as a handheld shakey-cam indie film and then as a boring, lifeless Hollywood pic. It never develops its own style as it goes through the motions mechanically and dull like so many assembly-line films these days. Cut and dry, simple, effective, and devoid of any originality whatsoever.

Uma's character of Eliza is a dumb idiot. Her character inspires no sympathy for the dumb shit she finds herself in. There are one or two scenes where Uma pulls off good acting, but they're all without any sort of merit or weight to them. They just seem to happen suddenly.

Anthony Edwards is literally the only male character in this film. All of the other males are simple projections of what a male would be to a woman of very few male experiences. The worst of all these other guys is the Indian messenger played by some dumb idiot. He's delivering a message to Anthony Edwards' character when he comes across Uma struggling to carry a bunch of bags. He offers to help but finds himself trying to act instead, pushing out the dialogue as painfully and awkwardly as a group colonic. He says all of maybe 17 words total but every word punches me in the stomach like a frozen ham being shot out of a cannon. It all culminates with easily the most awkward and flat-out fucking awful dance scene I've ever seen in a movie. You've never seen dancing this repulsive from this Indian shithead. It was like the poo-icing on the caca cake.

The movie ends and we've learned and gained absolutely nothing other than a newfound contempt for Indian messengers from Bushwick. Motherhood is an alienating, disjointed, and all-together poopy experience. It never seems to know what it is and what it wants to be, and always failed to grab me because of it.