The Women (2008)

Artwork for Theatrical Release

The original film is an integral part of the greatest year in film history (1939), it was directed by a man often considered one of Hollywood's greatest Golden Age directors, and starred Norma Shearer, Joan Crawford, and a billion other Hollywood starlets.

Surely a modern remake will take what little good charm was left in favor of remakes as a whole after Psycho (1998), and let's say, exponentially increase it?

So here we go.

One minute in and halfway through a very unimaginative introduction and I hate it already.  

Oh boy!  

So it was a welcome surprise when the first narrative shot introduced, a bionic shopping view, for no other reason than to propagate a stereotype.  Which I have to add is welcoming, not two sequences in and I have two new worst film moments ever.  And that includes Howard the Duck (1986) and Gigli (2003).

And the truly sad thing is that the stereotypes don't end there.  

Yes the talkative nail salon girl was in the original.  Yes the cattiness was there and so was all the shopping.  But where as in the original it felt as a necessary vehicle for its social criticism and a way to progress the narrative, here it feels painful and awkward and ill-fit.

Most of the fault can be rightfully levied on the script.  From the beginning to the end, the script is full of horrible lines and exposition that makes almost every minute of this film cringe worthy, and that makes the job of the actresses on screen incredibly difficult, and while most of them do a phenomenal job with the raw material, most notably Cloris Leachman and Annette Bening, some, I'm looking directly at you Jada and Meg, do a not so good job.

Annette Bening and Debra Messing are phenomenal together, their scenes being one of the few saving graces of the film.  They have great chemistry and their comedic timing is spotless.

Jada Pinkett Smith on the other hand, is too much and overacts easily.  Maybe she should take a few classes from India Ennenga, who plays Meg Ryan's daughter, who manages to feel natural and well rounded in a film full of flat characters and characterizations.

I'm going to be honest (for once), I used to love Meg Ryan, specially in French Kiss (1995) with its pursed anuses and Kevin Kline as a Frenchman (!?), but here, after a bad set of plastic surgery fiascoes, she is no longer cute and manages even to come across closer to something like the Joker's lead henchman.  

Artwork for Theatrical Release

I'm sorry, henchwoman, although I hear that title get's you paid 17% less across the board.

Twenty-eight minutes in and I'm bored and I just don't care about Meg Ryan's character.  She only musters enough sympathy and glee around Bette Midler.  But I wonder how much of that is really Bette and those by now slight fond memories of the Meg Ryan of yesteryear.

You can't find respite from all the mundaneness even in the production itself.  The camerawork and editing are a bit off, forcing the pace of the film to feel uneven and vexing.

The montages suck, stink to high heaven, and are horribly staged and executed.  They obliterate all the good energy and vibes (what little of it) the film had built up, and gives nothing in return.  Which is worse considering how many of them are required to move the narrative along.

It's even more of a shame that you have to wait 99% of the film for something truly good and refreshing to come across in this film.  But I guess it's never too late.  The final scene presents the most realistic birth scene I can remember ever seeing on film, apart from the CGI birth in Children of Men (2006), even if the baby here came out squeaky clean.

But then again, that scene alone is not worth the whole jetliner, so just go watch Children of Men and leave with a good feeling about humanity and cheaper peanuts.

Skip this film, unless you need a pretense for masochism.

God!  What a waste of film that was!