Oh, Babes. Perhaps it’s unfair to judge a film by what it isn’t, but in the case of actress and comedian Pamela Adlon’s feature directorial debut, a collaboration with co-writer and star Ilana Glazer, the shadow of Broad City looms overhead like a thick cloud on the New York City skyline. Starring Glazer and co-creator Abbi Jacobson, Broad City lasted for five seasons, and remains an encouraging example for artists looking to break into the mainstream – the show started as an independent web series before getting picked up by Comedy Central. But that’s the tricky thing about striking gold, especially in Glazer’s case. How long can you feasibly utilize the same characterization, that of a relatable – if irresponsible and slightly annoying – millennial New Yorker, before the shtick begins to run its course? If Babes is any indication, a reinvention might be in order.
Glazer is Eden, a thirty-something single woman who, despite running a thriving yoga business out of her apartment, remains co-dependent on her best friend, Dawn (Michelle Buteau). Fresh off having a second child, the proactive Dawn is in a crisis. She feels stuck, even with the unending support of her caring husband, Marty (Hasan Minhaj), and longs for a release from the constant burdens being placed on her shoulders. This is exacerbated when Eden finds out she’s pregnant after a one-night stand with Claude (Stephan James), a struggling actor she meets on the train coming home from the hospital where Dawn’s just given birth. Suave and caring, Claude seems like Eden’s perfect match. However, when the newly pregnant Eden comes looking for him, she finds out he’s died. Inspired by her brief but powerful connection with a man she barely knew, Eden decides to have the child.
At its core, Babes is a sweet and honest story about the positives and drawbacks of co-dependent friendship. In this regard, it’s very similar to Broad City, though it differs in some important ways. For one, there’s no Jacobson in sight. Buteau is a talented actress and gives what’s likely the film’s best performance, especially as everyone else seems to be playing a loose caricature of their already pre-established personas. Still, it’s hard to shake the feeling that this role was written with Glazer’s former collaborator in mind, even if it wasn’t. The screenplay, co-written by Glazer and Josh Rabinowitz, never does enough to convincingly build out the story of Eden and Dawn’s relationship beyond continuously referencing their shared history with each other. In place of fleshing out the duo’s friendship, their screenplay leans on gross-out comedy to fill in the gaps, losing a sense of reality in the process. If Broad City felt like an accurate depiction of a certain type of New York experience, Babes only ever feels like a movie.
That’s not to say Babes isn’t funny though, as it often is. The comedy is at its best when it leans into the core absurdity of its characters’ actions, such as when Eden irresponsibly shows Dawn’s young child, Tommy (Caleb Mermelstein-Knox), The Omen while babysitting, and he proceeds to frighten a nanny by drawing upside-down crosses around his bedroom. Like hundreds of comedies before it, Babes has a tripping sequence, but it’s a funny one that leads to one of the movie’s best lines (“c’mon, shrooms, you’re some silly-cybin!”). Glazer and Buteau are charming performers, and they’re surrounded by a decent ensemble. Minhaj is an unconvincing screen presence, but John Carroll Lynch brings an understated charm to his obstetrician character, Dr. Morris, who attempts and fails at different methods to solve his hair-loss problem. A cameo from the Lucas Brothers (Kenny and Keith Lucas) also makes for a standout moment.
Romantic comedies have a storied history of giving their characters bizarre professions. Even by those standards, Babes stretches credulity in some irritating ways. Relatability is a major asset in comedy, and something Glazer utilized powerfully in Broad City to make her character’s more extreme actions seem somewhat reasonable. Eden’s existence doesn’t make a ton of sense. If she’s worried about money, how can she easily drop $500 on sushi? Does her yoga business really fund an apartment that, by current standards, would be at least several thousand per month? This wouldn’t be an issue if the movie wholeheartedly committed to absurdity, but it opts for a more grounded and sentimental approach that isn’t entirely successful. This is especially apparent with Eden’s self-professed “deadbeat” dad, Bernie (Oliver Platt), a character so half-heartedly addressed, it’s unclear whether the movie wants the audience to take him seriously or as a joke. It doesn’t seem to affect Eden that much anyway, much like most of the movie’s meager attempts at drama.
Just charming enough, Babes is a half-decent comedy – if only that. In spite of its numerous flaws, it’ll appeal to those who’ve enjoyed Glazer’s previous work and scratches the Broad City itch for those who felt like they lost a friend when the show ended in 2019. Of course, it’s also nice to see a comedy that candidly approaches topics of pregnancy and bodily change through an explicitly female lens. It’s the comedy equivalent of a warm hug, in a climate where irony and cynicism seem to be the pervading forces in entertainment. As its characters learn to navigate change, one hopes Glazer’s next project will take some greater leaps as well.
Photo courtesy of NEON
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