Michelle Buteau and Ilana Glazer in Babes.Gwen Capistran/Elevation Pictures
- Babes
- Directed by Pamela Adlon
- Written by Ilana Glazer and Josh Rabinowitz
- Starring Ilana Glazer, Michelle Buteau and Stephan James
- Classification 14A; 104 minutes
- Opens in select theatres May 24
Recently touted as the “Bridesmaids of baby-making” by Rolling Stone, Babes – the feature debut from director Pamela Adlon – is an indie flick with a lot to live up to. Starring Broad City fixture Ilana Glazer as Eden and Survival of the Thickest’s Michelle Buteau as Dawn, the film focuses on a pair of inseparable friends who find themselves differing in their approach to life following each of their pregnancies.
Dawn is a successful dentist who lives on New York’s Upper West Side with her husband, Marty (Hasan Minhaj), their toddler son and their newborn baby. Eden is a carefree and single yoga instructor who lives in a fourth-floor walk-up in Astoria. Shortly after Dawn gives birth to her second child, Eden finds out that she herself is pregnant, following a subway-set meet-cute with the actor Claude (Stephan James).
Penned by Glazer and fellow Broad City producer Josh Rabinowitz, Babes is another entry, however unintentional, in the Broad City cinematic universe. Compared to the TV favourite however, the supposed charisma of Adlon’s leads often feels forced to the point of cringe; with laughs that are, at times, undoubtedly funny but lack the effectiveness of a more restrained delivery. A quick look at the film’s Letterboxd reviews reveals a host of “millennial cringe” accusations – one of Gen Z’s central gripes about the generation preceding them.
And the thing is – with Babes, at least – they’re not wrong. The film begins with (then-pregnant) Dawn and Eden undertaking their Thanksgiving tradition: a morning movie at their long-time favourite rep cinema. Quickly realizing that she is in the beginning stages of labour, Dawn and Eden quickly nix their movie-going in favour of “a last supper” at an upscale restaurant.
It’s a day-in-the-life-of-an-average-New Yorker opening that echoes previous Adlon vehicle FX’s Louie, as well as the actor-director’s much-praised work in the more recent series Better Days, paired with comedy riffs that are oh-so-Glazer. What’s glaring here, however, is the unlikability of the characters: Dawn and Eden, as we first meet them, are rude and obnoxious to the service workers in their midst, all in the name of their own shared laughs and in jokes (think of the decorum we might see in HBO Max’s Search Party, for example, but without the intentionality, finesse and satire).
It’s, simply put, a strange introduction to leads who are clearly meant to be likeable and engaging in a wry, urban thirtysomething way, but who lack the self-awareness that makes such flawed-yet-charming characters both successful and enjoyable. While a relatively small failing, it still shapes much of Babes’ runtime.
On the surface, Dawn and Eden parallel the dynamic we see in Paul Feig’s Bridesmaids – one friend who is slightly impulsive and uncertain of where her life is supposed to go from here; another entering into a new, grounded (and wholly moneyed) chapter of their life – but the effect feels hollow and only vaguely sketched out. We are expected to root for Dawn and Eden just as we are expected to fill in the details of their relationship despite the script’s patchwork approach to developing their shared story.
While Buteau’s Dawn offers the most emotionally resonant performance as an exhausted and overwhelmed second-time mom, Glazer and Minhaj each struggle with their more weighty scenes, underscoring the fact that, for better or worse, Babes is a film written by stand-up comedians who peaked in the 2010s.
Despite this, the themes presented are both lovely and worthwhile: navigating what family looks like (and might grow to look like) in the present world; the reality of grief and loss and the way that both experiences are inextricable from some of life’s best moments; the changing nature of friendship and the importance of platonic intimacy.
Unfortunately, what is a tender and at times fantastically raunchy film about the reality of relationships, parenthood and family-making – especially as compared to the dreams and expectations held by our past childhood selves – is continually undermined by writing that is so self-satisfied with its quips and gags that it bypasses the work of actually building out a complex story.
Even in its tear-jerker of an ending (which delightfully uses romantic comedy tropes to emphasize the nature of close friendships like Dawn and Eden’s), there is a poignancy that is often lacking when Babes dearly needs it. For all its promising elements, Babes is a film that exists more on vibes than substance.