Nine: Screen Test

To begin, let me say I quite liked Nine, although my friend the Bad Fairy didn’t. She is a fan of musicals, both theatrical and cinematic, and this has been from screen to stage and back again.

What I didn’t know at the time, but do now, was that the original 1982 Broadway production of Nine was nominated for 12 Tony Awards and won five, including Best Musical. The writer (Maury Yeston) sought the permission of his inspiration – Frederico Fellini – to interpret 8½ (the original Fellini film based on the number of films Guido had directed to date) for stage – and has now given director Rob Marshall his blessing to make this film.

Knowing all that, I began to wonder whether if you already know the story/have read the book, you are less likely to enjoy the film. Incidentally, I saw Disgrace this weekend and although it faithfully followed the book, I wondered why anyone had bothered to make the film, unless it is just another chance to prove that John Malkovich is indeed, odd. Him Outdoors says it simply brings the story/concept/dilemma to a new audience through a different media. I do so hate it when he’s rational. (And right.)

But back to Nine. It is a male fantasy about the terminally self-obsessed writer/director Guido Contini, surrounded by glamorous women. The women have names, but these don’t matter as they are merely constructs to massage Guido’s ego and only exist in their relation to him. He is trying to write and direct the film Italia, which proves to be too big a job. Perhaps it is impossible to condense the spirit of a country into one film. A nice touch sees the lead actress, played by Nicole Kidman, adorning a billboard to promote the forthcoming film which never eventuates – in a less-than-subtle reference to the teeth-achingly dreadful Australia. I’m not surprised he has writer’s block with a plastic Madonna for a mother and a simpering ninny for a muse.

There are many elements of the film version of Chicago (which Rob Marshall also directed) such as mixing up black and white with colour shots, and interspersing a full set with a theatrical construct. Him Outdoors liked the cars and the intimation of La Dolce Vita.

I was disappointed by the lack of Italian scenery (although a few backdrops of the Coliseum and the Amalfi Coast were thrown in) and felt the script was weak considering it was penned by Michael Tolkin (who wrote the screenplay for The Player – one of my favourite films) and the late, great Anthony Minghella.

A lot of the numbers sounded as though they could have come from any other musical and only a couple stood out. This might be the fault of the ‘singers’ rather than the songs. Bad Fairy questions why they don’t get someone who can actually sing and use their voice instead; it’s not as though it’s ‘live’ so it is actually dubbed anyway. They did it to a cute kid in Berlin, while the ugly kid sang off-stage; that’s show business, folks! She reckons it lets down the integrity of the film when all the other production values are so slick. Fair point, albeit quite controversial.

And so to the cast...

The director: Daniel Day-Lewis – approaching fifty with a mid-life crisis looming (although I doubt he’ll live to 100 with his lifestyle), he assumes a role in which I would have expected to see Rupert Everett as a wonderfully burnt-out genius; he could have come straight from an Oscar Wilde play. His singing is Rex Harrison-esque and the interview scene where he fronts up to reporters with nothing yet ‘in the can’ is transplanted straight from Chicago.

The wife: Marion Cotillard – one of two people in the film who can sing. The song where she makes a dignified exit from the restaurant, insulted that the mistress has turned up (My Husband Makes Movies) is an understated delight. The one where she parodies a striptease, giving all the material trappings to the man who has already taken her soul (Take It All) was re-written for the film (originally it was a trio for her, the muse and the mistress) to showcase her wide acting and vocal range.

The mistress: Penelope Cruz – sexy but vulnerable; a good role for her, although the supposedly erotic scene (A Call From the Vatican) is like something out of one of the less ‘tasteful’ porno mags. She is used and discarded, although our sympathy is tempered when we see her husband whom she is betraying. Her brief is to be childlike and kittenish (all pouts and fluttering eyelashes) and attempt an overdose in melodramatic fashion.

The mother: Sophia Loren – she used to be beautiful when she could move her face. Now she looks like a blow-up doll and it’s hard to act when you can’t form an expression. Their scene of Italian son’s obsession with his mama and the lullaby Guarda La Luna is mawkish in the extreme. Apparently it is her spirit to whom he is appealing as she is actually dead, which would explain the death mask and the wooden acting.

The muse: Nicole Kidman – ditto. When she removes the wig and says, ‘This is me’ I wanted her to put it back on immediately. She looks like something from Mars Attacks! and with similarly out-of-this-world acting, as in completely alien. Rumour has it that Catherine Zeta-Jones was originally cast in the role but pulled out when Rob Marshall refused to expand the role for the film. She made a wise decision, although he did not. If this character were more motivational (not to mention the fact that she could actually sing and dance) it would have been easier to understand her allure over Guido and his need for her. As it is the song, Unusual Way, is weak and insipid; more tepid than Trevi.

The mentor: Judi Dench – a perennial favourite. I saw her in Merry Wives; the Musical and she has a beautiful catch in her throat which, although she is far from a ‘great singer’ makes everything she sings sound emotional. Her song, Folies Bergères (Razzle Dazzle by any other name) wasn’t great, although it was an excuse to swan around with a feather boa and who wouldn’t want that? Her relationship to Guido is similar to M’s affectionate tolerance for Bond’s roguish ways, but the costumes are better. She has a wonderful speech about the role of a director and how little they actually do in pulling together a film.

The prostitute: Fergie – the other one who can sing. Her song, Be Italian, is the one song I remember and can still hum weeks after seeing the film. I loved the staging of it, with handfuls of sand being raked through fingers and flung across the set to create powerful visual effects. I spent the rest of the film wondering how I could incorporate that into a play and who would do all the sweeping up afterwards.

The fashion journalist: Kate Hudson – still the bubbly beautiful girl reprising her role in Almost Famous. Her song (Cinema Italiano) was written specifically for the movie (and it is unashamedly a movie, rather than a film) and sounds exactly like Buenos Aires from Evita – this could have been another opportunity to showcase the glamour of Italy and yet it is set on a catwalk and in a bar.