For
the love of a child
Helen
Hunt’s directing debut is commendably confident, with the
spectre of Woody Allen in the wings. She brings together a group
of rather oddball uptight characters in an quirky romantic comedy
that fetches quite a few subtle laughs as well as having a dramatic
emotional impact. You’ll probably find the characters appealing
– because aren’t we all a little odd and uptight at
times? The unexpected ending leaves you in good spirits as the
curtain falls.
Setting is New York. April Epner (Helen Hunt) is
in her late thirties, a schoolteacher desperately wanting to have
a child. Ben (Matthew Broderick) is her immature and dithering
husband. After a few months of matrimonial bliss, he wants to
call it a day. Her ailing adoptive mother whom April has nursed
for some time finally dies. On top of all this, over-the-top talk
show host Bernice Graves (Bette Midler) – a sort of poor
man’s Oprah – appears on the scene claiming to be
April’s real mother.
Bernice says she had a one night stand with Steve
McQueen – of all people – nearly forty years ago and
April is the result. But April is attracted to Frank (Colin Firth),
recently divorced and who happens to be the father of one of her
pupils. In her state of confusion, April finds consolation with
Frank; but things get dramatically complicated when she discovers
she’s pregnant with, it seems, Ben’s child.
An
underlying theme in the movie is adoption: April is uncertain
whether to adopt a baby before she discoverers she is pregnant.
She herself is adopted which leads to the appearance of her biological
mother.
Helen Hunt (Bobby) is obviously a gifted
director of actors. She manages excellent performances from her
sterling cast including herself. She excels in her realistic performance,
looking at times quite worn and anxious. Bette Midler (The
Stepford Wives) for once in restrained mode, manages to instill
a motherly if self-interested aspect to her flamboyant Bernice,
while Colin Firth (St. Trinian’s) the flawed and
temperamental book jacket writer has the necessary angst. Matthew
Broderick (The Producers) easily provides an appropriate
childish husband, and the cameo part of Salman Rushdie (author
of The Satanic Verses) as a bemused doctor is a quaint
bit of casting that works.
Based on the novel by Elinor Lipman, Hunt worked
for eight years to get it to the silver screen. “Took me
a long time to get it made” is something of an understatement.
It's no mean feat when she acts, directs and co-writes the piece.
She’s managed clever dialogue with a dollop of Jewish humour.
Those amusing scenes at the doctors office, where in one take
the exasperated Ruskie asks “Is there anyone else coming?”
For once the music track here is appropriate to
the film, and actually works exceedingly well in maintaining the
right atmosphere. Camerawork and production values are acceptably
high in standard, and overall this is a polished effort for a
debut director. It should have considerable appeal to the adult
audiences its likely to attract.
John Bale
