"Nine" is a beautiful film, a dazzling spectacle, a feast for the eyes. However, while the eyes may be satisfied, the mind will not. "Nine" is a prime example of a film in which nothing really happens, in which a series of impressively choreographed, show-stopping musical numbers are present merely to distract from the lack of plot.
Daniel Day-Lewis plays ne'er-do-well director Guido Contini, the creator of several well-loved films and a few more recent flops, as random characters repeatedly remind us. (Though this is a criticism of the original "8½," and not this film, I wish that the lead's name weren't so generic.) Guido tells the press that he will make a comeback with his magnum opus "Italia." Production begins in a week, and, as only Guido's closest confidants know, the script hasn't been written. Guido, it would seem, has a monster case of writer's block. Thus, he does what any of us would do: he retreats to an insular resort at which he distances himself from his wife and has yet another liaison with his mistress. And that's pretty much it. As anyone who merely looks at the list of songs in the soundtrack will realize, the movie never gets made, and Guido's life collapses.
The ever-versatile Day-Lewis plays the role of Guido surprisingly well. His singing, while not fantastic, is better than I expected. His accent is flawless, as is his acting. It's a shame, though, that the character is relatively stagnant; otherwise, he could have brought so much more.
Marion Cotillard, as Guido's wife, Luisa, is the real star of this film; if she is not nominated for an Oscar for her performance, I will scream. Luisa was once Guido's muse, and now as his dejected spouse, she has fallen from grace and has little left in her life, as her career has ended. In her two numbers, "My Husband Makes Movies" and "Take It All" (the latter an original song written specifically for the film), Cotillard brilliantly conveys the heartbreak and raw desperation of her character. She is at once a dream and agonizing to watch. Cotillard, apparently, originally auditioned for the role of Lili, but was cast as Luisa instead. Quite frankly, thank goodness.
Penélope Cruz plays the hyper-sexual Carla Albanese, Guido's, shall we say, mistress. (Cruz really has a knack for landing the seductress roles. I mean, first "The Good Night," then "Elegy," then "Vicky Cristina Barcelona." It's not a bad thing — she's a fantastic actress — but it is an unnerving pattern.) Cruz fails to disappoint; her character, after Cotillard's, was the most entrancing in the film. Her emotional pain was clear, and I found myself pitying her frequently. Pobrecita.
The always wonderful Judi Dench plays Lili, Guido's costume designer and unconditional best friend. What can I say about Judi Dench? She's always, quite simply, fantastic, and brings her typical understated sass to what would otherwise have been a tedious role.
Pop/hip-hop artist Fergie randomly appears in a flashback to Guido's youth as a um a seaside prostitute. Though that is pretty much her only scene, her very, very arenaceous song, "Be Italian," was the best song of the film. Passionate, erotic, rubescent the song is a show-stopper. Fergie reportedly gained twenty pounds to look more like her character, but I thought she actually looked really good with some more meat on her bones.
Kate Hudson appears in a mostly bit role as Stephanie Necrophorus, an American journalist for Vogue magazine. Though I usually disdain to even acknowledge her lowbrow films, she proves here that while she may not be the most talented actress on the planet, she can sing and dance really well. Channelling her mother with her heavy makeup, she serves as a five-minute distraction for Guido, and that's it. Her song, "Cinema Italiano" (which was another original addition to the film), is the catchiest and the most fun, and I found myself humming it as I left the theater. (That could have been the fact that it was reprised during the credits, though.)
Nicole Kidman, I will not hesitate to say, is one of my favorite actresses of all time. The role of Claudia Jenssen is an utter waste of her talent. Catherine Zeta-Jones was reportedly originally cast in the role, but when she wanted the part enlarged, and her wish was denied, she quit. Now I see why; while Claudia is referenced throughout the film, she seems to be more of an unseen character until her arrival more than an hour in. Even then, she only appears in a handful of scenes, sings a forgettable song, and disappears. It exasperates me to think that Kidman, an enrapturing actress, only has ten minutes of screen time. But for what it's worth, Kidman steals all the scenes she appears in.
A very heavily done up Sophia Loren plays Mamma Contini, Guido's deceased mother. Loren's character barely appears in the film, unfortunately. Her single song, "Guarda la Luna" (yet another original song), fails to entertain very much, despite its simplistic beauty. Loren's presence, however, is not to be ignored.
The reason I spent so much of this review discussing the actors is that they are the ones who made this film watchable. The plot is as thin as wax paper, and while the performances and dazzling musical numbers (all of which are presented on the same stage, which I thought was a nice, artistic touch) do a fantastic job of distracting audiences, they do not make up for the dearth of diegesis. Aristotle wrote in "Poetics" that the six components of a correct tragedy were plot, character, thought, speech, song, and spectacle. While "Nine" is not, in fact, a tragedy (and the part of "Poetics" that discussed comedy has been lost), the point is still apropos; "Nine" is heavy in spectacle and song and character, it is low in plot.
Daniel Day-Lewis plays ne'er-do-well director Guido Contini, the creator of several well-loved films and a few more recent flops, as random characters repeatedly remind us. (Though this is a criticism of the original "8½," and not this film, I wish that the lead's name weren't so generic.) Guido tells the press that he will make a comeback with his magnum opus "Italia." Production begins in a week, and, as only Guido's closest confidants know, the script hasn't been written. Guido, it would seem, has a monster case of writer's block. Thus, he does what any of us would do: he retreats to an insular resort at which he distances himself from his wife and has yet another liaison with his mistress. And that's pretty much it. As anyone who merely looks at the list of songs in the soundtrack will realize, the movie never gets made, and Guido's life collapses.
The ever-versatile Day-Lewis plays the role of Guido surprisingly well. His singing, while not fantastic, is better than I expected. His accent is flawless, as is his acting. It's a shame, though, that the character is relatively stagnant; otherwise, he could have brought so much more.
Marion Cotillard, as Guido's wife, Luisa, is the real star of this film; if she is not nominated for an Oscar for her performance, I will scream. Luisa was once Guido's muse, and now as his dejected spouse, she has fallen from grace and has little left in her life, as her career has ended. In her two numbers, "My Husband Makes Movies" and "Take It All" (the latter an original song written specifically for the film), Cotillard brilliantly conveys the heartbreak and raw desperation of her character. She is at once a dream and agonizing to watch. Cotillard, apparently, originally auditioned for the role of Lili, but was cast as Luisa instead. Quite frankly, thank goodness.
Penélope Cruz plays the hyper-sexual Carla Albanese, Guido's, shall we say, mistress. (Cruz really has a knack for landing the seductress roles. I mean, first "The Good Night," then "Elegy," then "Vicky Cristina Barcelona." It's not a bad thing — she's a fantastic actress — but it is an unnerving pattern.) Cruz fails to disappoint; her character, after Cotillard's, was the most entrancing in the film. Her emotional pain was clear, and I found myself pitying her frequently. Pobrecita.
The always wonderful Judi Dench plays Lili, Guido's costume designer and unconditional best friend. What can I say about Judi Dench? She's always, quite simply, fantastic, and brings her typical understated sass to what would otherwise have been a tedious role.
Pop/hip-hop artist Fergie randomly appears in a flashback to Guido's youth as a um a seaside prostitute. Though that is pretty much her only scene, her very, very arenaceous song, "Be Italian," was the best song of the film. Passionate, erotic, rubescent the song is a show-stopper. Fergie reportedly gained twenty pounds to look more like her character, but I thought she actually looked really good with some more meat on her bones.
Kate Hudson appears in a mostly bit role as Stephanie Necrophorus, an American journalist for Vogue magazine. Though I usually disdain to even acknowledge her lowbrow films, she proves here that while she may not be the most talented actress on the planet, she can sing and dance really well. Channelling her mother with her heavy makeup, she serves as a five-minute distraction for Guido, and that's it. Her song, "Cinema Italiano" (which was another original addition to the film), is the catchiest and the most fun, and I found myself humming it as I left the theater. (That could have been the fact that it was reprised during the credits, though.)
Nicole Kidman, I will not hesitate to say, is one of my favorite actresses of all time. The role of Claudia Jenssen is an utter waste of her talent. Catherine Zeta-Jones was reportedly originally cast in the role, but when she wanted the part enlarged, and her wish was denied, she quit. Now I see why; while Claudia is referenced throughout the film, she seems to be more of an unseen character until her arrival more than an hour in. Even then, she only appears in a handful of scenes, sings a forgettable song, and disappears. It exasperates me to think that Kidman, an enrapturing actress, only has ten minutes of screen time. But for what it's worth, Kidman steals all the scenes she appears in.
A very heavily done up Sophia Loren plays Mamma Contini, Guido's deceased mother. Loren's character barely appears in the film, unfortunately. Her single song, "Guarda la Luna" (yet another original song), fails to entertain very much, despite its simplistic beauty. Loren's presence, however, is not to be ignored.
The reason I spent so much of this review discussing the actors is that they are the ones who made this film watchable. The plot is as thin as wax paper, and while the performances and dazzling musical numbers (all of which are presented on the same stage, which I thought was a nice, artistic touch) do a fantastic job of distracting audiences, they do not make up for the dearth of diegesis. Aristotle wrote in "Poetics" that the six components of a correct tragedy were plot, character, thought, speech, song, and spectacle. While "Nine" is not, in fact, a tragedy (and the part of "Poetics" that discussed comedy has been lost), the point is still apropos; "Nine" is heavy in spectacle and song and character, it is low in plot.
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