"Did you ever have to make up your mind?/Say yes to one, and leave the other behind..."
Rob Salinger's life becomes a Lovin' Spoonful song when the television reporter hooks up with a friendly cellist and they make a baby. Rob, a frustrated wanna-be father, figures he will never get a child with the career-centered woman he is married to and decides to divorce her. But he is hit for a wallop when a rapt Mrs. Salinger tells him that she is pregnant, too, and eager to embrace a new domesticity with him. It's tough enough making up one's mind when there's two people involved, let alone four, and so Rob decides to make a go of it and tough it out by marrying the cellist, supporting his wife, and juggling like mad.
A charming Blake Edwards comedy struggles to get out of the gate with some tedious exposition and some disturbing insights into the central characters. Rob's devotion to parenting is mitigated by his deceitful way with women who love him. The cellist, Maude, doesn't seem bothered about picking off a married guy. Wife Micki is so selfish she even goes to an abortion clinic without telling her husband, who in turn has no qualms keeping her in the dark about Maude so he can use her as his personal incubator. Here's a couple both sides of the Roe v. Wade debate can agree on disliking.
But a funny thing happens as the film progresses. It gets funny. Very funny. Dudley Moore plays Rob with comic abandon and flair, playing off his character's monomania in such a way we not only enjoy it but come to root for it. There's a great scene with Richard Mulligan, playing Leo his boss at work, where Rob ponders how to tell Micki the truth, only to find he can't. Leo says just tell her the truth, he knocked up another woman and she's having a baby.
Rob demurs. That's a little rough.
Tell her: "We're naming the baby after you," Leo suggests. Ouch.
Also helping a lot are the women in the story, Ann Reinking as Micki and Amy Irving as Maude. Neither are natural comediennes, and Reinking gave up filmwork after this, but both are terrific foils, setting up laughs for Moore and generating some of their own, like with Micki's drug-induced hysteria while in labor and Maude's way of playacting with monster movies on TV. Both also establish a believable intimacy with Moore's character, which makes his dilemma understandable if not heroic.
For his part, Moore delivers a stellar central performance, full of heart and conviction, and many painful-looking pratfalls. Only praying mantises sacrifice more in pursuit of fatherhood than does poor Rob.
Moore won a Golden Globe for his performance here, a pretty amazing feat given the four other comedy nominees that year were Bill Murray in "Ghostbusters," Eddie Murphy in "Beverly Hills Cop," Steve Martin in "All Of Me," and Robin Williams in "Moscow On The Hudson." That's a Murderers Row of talent, each a career role in great careers, and while I'd pick Martin myself, I think Moore deserved something for his great work. I'm glad he got it.
Like many Blake Edwards comedies, this one rolls to a fine finish, actually an amazingly sustained one with two big payoffs, one at a doctor's office where the two women both show up, and the other, of course, at the hospital while both are giving birth. In addition to Mulligan, there's fine supporting work from Lu Leonard as a suspicious nurse and Gustav Vintas as a prickly Germanic doctor. But it's Moore's baby, or babies, and he carries them to the finish line in fine form.
The movie's not perfect. The beginning is weak and overlong, as said, and there are some silly bits of Moore at work which feature some labored comedy. Frankly, one reason I'd've give the Globe to Moore is that he had less of a script to work with than the other fine actors, that and Moore never really had any great comedies of his own like they did. It seems fair the underdog won this one time. M&M is a solid charmer, and a nice way of remembering a fine actor at his apex.
Rob Salinger's life becomes a Lovin' Spoonful song when the television reporter hooks up with a friendly cellist and they make a baby. Rob, a frustrated wanna-be father, figures he will never get a child with the career-centered woman he is married to and decides to divorce her. But he is hit for a wallop when a rapt Mrs. Salinger tells him that she is pregnant, too, and eager to embrace a new domesticity with him. It's tough enough making up one's mind when there's two people involved, let alone four, and so Rob decides to make a go of it and tough it out by marrying the cellist, supporting his wife, and juggling like mad.
A charming Blake Edwards comedy struggles to get out of the gate with some tedious exposition and some disturbing insights into the central characters. Rob's devotion to parenting is mitigated by his deceitful way with women who love him. The cellist, Maude, doesn't seem bothered about picking off a married guy. Wife Micki is so selfish she even goes to an abortion clinic without telling her husband, who in turn has no qualms keeping her in the dark about Maude so he can use her as his personal incubator. Here's a couple both sides of the Roe v. Wade debate can agree on disliking.
But a funny thing happens as the film progresses. It gets funny. Very funny. Dudley Moore plays Rob with comic abandon and flair, playing off his character's monomania in such a way we not only enjoy it but come to root for it. There's a great scene with Richard Mulligan, playing Leo his boss at work, where Rob ponders how to tell Micki the truth, only to find he can't. Leo says just tell her the truth, he knocked up another woman and she's having a baby.
Rob demurs. That's a little rough.
Tell her: "We're naming the baby after you," Leo suggests. Ouch.
Also helping a lot are the women in the story, Ann Reinking as Micki and Amy Irving as Maude. Neither are natural comediennes, and Reinking gave up filmwork after this, but both are terrific foils, setting up laughs for Moore and generating some of their own, like with Micki's drug-induced hysteria while in labor and Maude's way of playacting with monster movies on TV. Both also establish a believable intimacy with Moore's character, which makes his dilemma understandable if not heroic.
For his part, Moore delivers a stellar central performance, full of heart and conviction, and many painful-looking pratfalls. Only praying mantises sacrifice more in pursuit of fatherhood than does poor Rob.
Moore won a Golden Globe for his performance here, a pretty amazing feat given the four other comedy nominees that year were Bill Murray in "Ghostbusters," Eddie Murphy in "Beverly Hills Cop," Steve Martin in "All Of Me," and Robin Williams in "Moscow On The Hudson." That's a Murderers Row of talent, each a career role in great careers, and while I'd pick Martin myself, I think Moore deserved something for his great work. I'm glad he got it.
Like many Blake Edwards comedies, this one rolls to a fine finish, actually an amazingly sustained one with two big payoffs, one at a doctor's office where the two women both show up, and the other, of course, at the hospital while both are giving birth. In addition to Mulligan, there's fine supporting work from Lu Leonard as a suspicious nurse and Gustav Vintas as a prickly Germanic doctor. But it's Moore's baby, or babies, and he carries them to the finish line in fine form.
The movie's not perfect. The beginning is weak and overlong, as said, and there are some silly bits of Moore at work which feature some labored comedy. Frankly, one reason I'd've give the Globe to Moore is that he had less of a script to work with than the other fine actors, that and Moore never really had any great comedies of his own like they did. It seems fair the underdog won this one time. M&M is a solid charmer, and a nice way of remembering a fine actor at his apex.