Nine minutes of enjoyment is not a whole lot...

It's an unfortunate thing that happens when you anticipate a film too much.

"Totally normal," they say, "happens to everyone!" But the unfortunate byproduct of wanting to see a film so badly that you set your expectations through the roof is (obviously) that it can never live up to your heightened standards and you exit the theatre feeling cheated of the exhilaration that comes when a film truly captures your heart.

I have been looking forward to seeing Nine since I first saw the teaser trailer and realized that not only was there another musical coming out, it featured many of my favourite contemporary actresses and was based on a Broadway musical that was itself based upon Frederico Fellini's autobiographical film 8 1/2. How could this not be the film for me? And so I have waited patiently for this day to arrive, and lo: it has!

And it pains me to say that's when the film stopped being fun.

Although all save one of the featured actresses have won Oscars and they are all trying their very hardest (in addition to Daniel Day Lewis who convincingly plays an ageing director who's lost his Italian mojo) the film falls short of what I was expecting. Now it may be that after Chicago there is a certain expectation in terms of the construction of the musical film. Certainly Nine borrowed from the visual cues and tricks that were used to such great effect in its predecessor. However I think more than anything the issue lies in the fact that there are so very many layers and so many stories that need to be told to fully understand the main character (Day-Lewis' Maestro: Guido Cantini) that it cannot all be packed into one film.

Using visual cues to remind the audience of the source material is a good trick: the silent sound stage where the Maestro attempts to find inspiration is reminiscent of the set design found in the stage show, the black and white, grainy film technique used for shots of his boyhood which suggest the great Italian films of Fellini which inspired the original play. But ultimately the film falls short of being truly great because it simply cannot seem to find its focus (though this in itself suggests a parallel to the Maestro's lack of concentration).

Honourable mentions go to Judy Dench (that woman can sing her heart out, and with a French accent no less) and Maron Cotillard (I really need to hunker down and watch La Vie en Rose at some point) who both performed admirably and sang memorable and touching songs.

In the end, if you like musicals this may tickle your fancy (one of my friends truly loved the movie). But for myself I would say, wait until it can be rented and enjoy it in the comfort of your own home... this one's not really for public consumption. Come to think of it, nine is probably how many minutes of the movie I truly loved; that works out to seven percent of the film...poor form Rob Marshall, poor form.