Review of The Back-Up Plan (2010) by Kylie S — 21 Oct 2010

The script provides the major obstacle for even brain-in-neutral enjoyment: for all that it claims to hymn the joys of self-empowerment, taking matters into your own hands and saying the word vagina out loud, the film is more generally characterised by a casual, backhanded revulsion at the workings of the female form.

.. It builds to a home birth scene that's somehow even more hideous than anything in "Knocked Up", replete with New Age bongo beaters, shrieks of distress, and J-Lo fainting into a paddling pool full of poop and afterbirth.

(That's entertainment.) It's all very well A-listers complaining about unflattering, illicit paparazzi pics of their love handles and cellulite, but I can't honestly see how the confusion and insecurity some women feel about their bodies would be helped by polished, properly photographed films like these: projects that seek to turn motherhood into a commercial enterprise, and thus the fallopian tubes into production lines, with their own schedules and deadlines to be observed.

Entertainments conceived to comfort might instead alienate the viewer, or turn them off entirely; for more than one reason, prospective mums would be better off watching "L'Avventura".