There are better ways of spending some quality staycation time than watching the failure of a musical, Nine, like ironing. In fact, I was ironing just before I decided to catch this mess. I wonder why I choose this flick after all, I am not really a fan of musicals especially the newer ones.

Nine extends Frederico Fellini's 8 1/2 onto the Great White Way. It is a musical devoted to the writer's block from a great director who can't put his latest movie down in script. He spends time dredging a semblance of a tale from the various ladies in his life, the wife, the mother, the mistress, the confidant, the leading lady, the whore. Each girl contributes something for him to use and amuse himself into writing a movie.

Penelope Cruz was the mistress. I like her corset. Sophia Loren was the mother. She's old. Marion Cotilliard is the wife. She's resigned. Fergie was the whore. She had the best song (supposedly), the only song I think I've heard about.

Nine was supposedly a Tony winner. The songs were also. I thought the songs were not remarkable. I don't think I liked any of the songs. I should've walked out.

1 of 5 stars.

Labels: ,