Photo Caption: Saraghina (Stacy 'Fergie' Ferguson) and dancers in Rob Marshall's NINE.  Photo by: David James © 2009 The Weinstein Co.
Photo Caption: Saraghina (Stacy 'Fergie' Ferguson) and dancers in Rob Marshall's NINE. Photo by: David James © 2009 The Weinstein Co.

I admit, I’m late in writing this review. Not unlike Guido I’ve been wracking my brains. What is there to possibly write about this film? I’m tempted, very tempted, to cut to the quick with a two-word review echoing that of Spinal Tap’s album Shark Sandwich. That wouldn’t, however, properly frame this magnitude of failure.

To motivate myself, I started watching Federico Fellini’s 8 1/2, the film upon which Mario Fratti’s Broadway play Nine is based, from which this film was adapted. Within the first ten minutes, I noted two shots that, in their brevity, trigger greater emotional response than the whole of Rob Marshall’s film.

In the first, Guido Anselmi (Marcello Mastroianni) readies himself in the bathroom, set to Nino Rota’s adaptation of Wagner’s Ritt der Walküre (which I suspect inspired the also whimsical usage in Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now). With each buzz of the telephone, Guido crouches a step lower, and yet again, in disbelief. The effect is itself musical and hilarious. The second is in the procession of players (one of many) that immediately follows—he’s fantasizing. A youthful woman seems to float to the pedestal, with a glass of water. The camera cuts to Mr. Mastroianni. “Grazie,” he replies. The camera cuts back to an older, plain woman, then again to Mr. Mastroianni’s face—restrained disgust, as he pushes up his rectangular sunglasses.

Observe the myriad peripheral actors enter and exit the frame, even in the background as Barbara Steele stammers in deliberately awful Italian pronunciation. Note the meticulously choreographed motion. Like a mad puppeteer, Mr. Fellini directed every nuance or gesture with precision. One can sense in his seminal works, especially, a current whereby seemingly random motion runs lockstep to a silent beat. This was partly due to his on-set usage of music, later replaced by over-dubbed dialogue.

There isn’t a single intriguing, amusing, passionate or inspiring visual to be found in Nine, directed by Rob Marshall whose previous credits include the bland Memoirs of a Geisha, and the acclaimed Broadway musical adaptation, Chicago. While not my typical approach to compare derivative works to their source, I think it’s important to note here because the current state of filmmaking has, I think, robbed audiences of the knowledge and experience of vastly superior works.

Daniel Day-Lewis portrays the beleaguered film director, Guido Contini. Note that the basis, Guido Anselmi of Fellini’s metafilm, was itself referential to Federico Fellini, who reportedly couldn’t complete the film with which he was tasked, and instead made a film about that. I don’t know what’s more loathesome: Listening to Mr. Day-Lewis’ horribly phony Italian accent caterwauling, or Kate Hudson’s chirping vocals in “Cinema Italiano.” I liked Kate Hudson as the ephemeral Penny Lane in Cameron Crowe’s autobiographical love song to the 70’s, Almost Famous. I cannot, however, place who she’s supposed to be in this film.

As in Federico Fellini’s masterpiece, Penelope Cruz re-enacts Carla. Nicole Kidman takes the Claudia Cardinale role. Marion Cotillard is Luisa, Guido’s wife; Sophia Loren, his mother. Who the hell is Kate Hudson? All I can think is the studio execs demanded that an American actress be cast to lock down American audiences. But why? They’re off seeing popcorn films like Avatar, with almost no knowledge of Mr. Fellini or his neorealist films.

Judi Dench as Guido’s assistant has a great turn performing the raucous number, “Folies Bergère.” The standout, ironically, is Stacy “Fergie” Ferguson, re-creating the village whore, Saraghina, of Guido’s childhood. Her vocal strength and range in “Be Italian,” is a charming surprise. Her stage presence, exaggerated it may be, is pitch perfect to the obscene Saraghina’s salacious swagger.

I’m perplexed as to how anyone would waste time, outside of these two numbers, watching this film and not Fellini’s masterpiece. It reminds me of a 2002 IGN interview of producer Gary Kurtz who then observed our entrance into an era of entirely referential films. Some would argue that derivative work is a necessary component of art, but when this replaces any effort whatsoever to craft an original or unique perspective, even on an extant subject of curiosity, that constitutes intellectual and creative bankruptcy.


Nine • Dolby® Digital surround sound in select theatres • Aspect Ratio: 2.35:1 • MPAA Rating: PG-13 for sexual content and smoking. • Distributed by The Weinstein Company

Dolby and the double-D symbol are registered trademarks of Dolby Laboratories.