Blog

New York City-born actress, writer, producer, and debut director Pamela Adlon delivers an authentically Big Apple comedy with Babes. Where co-writer and co-lead ​​Ilana Glazer brings her trademark Broad City silliness, Adlon’s vision veers more toward Woody Allen’s New York tales or Louis C.K.’s self-titled FX series Louie. It’s a collaboration that frequently works, except when warring intentions separate like oil and vinegar. Perhaps that starts with the screenplay, where Glazer and writing partner Josh Rabinowitz find their wackier humor at odds with straight-faced pregnancy woes. Babes succeeds as a comedy with enough primetime laughs — that’s (typically) what happens when hilarious comedians join forces — but never fully jells into a balanced experience between prenatal jokes and dead-serious subplots.

Glazer and Survival of the Thickest star Michelle Buteau play forever besties on opposite sides of the lifestyle spectrum. Eden (Glazer) teaches yoga in her Astoria studio apartment and embraces the freedoms of singlehood, reminiscent of a more mature take on Ilana Wexler. Dawn (Buteau) is pregnant with her second child, fulfilling a domesticated brownstone existence with her glazed-over husband Marty (Hasan Minhaj). Eden and Dawn’s bond transcends bloodlines, but even their impenetrable friendship will be tested when the unthinkable happens: Eden gets pregnant. There’s no more yin to yang, just raging hormones and an evolving friendship under mommy-to-be duress.

‘Babes’ Has a Real Sense of Place

Glazer, Rabinowitz, and Adlon create something so New York City that it has a go-to bodega order. Eden’s impromptu subway car sushi date with multiple transfers is spontaneously sweet and terrifyingly unsanitary at the same time, which is cheekily acknowledged. Eden and Dawn’s reliance on yellow cabs or Lyfts despite “leakage” and labor pains accentuates the utterly ridiculous challenges of childbirth in major metropolitan areas. The nonchalant temper of passersby or Eden’s “Gotta love New York” attitude is priceless and grants Babes its behavioral edge. Comedy starts with Eden and Dawn’s opposing attributes, but only gets better once intrinsically NYC signatures are roasted with an organic presentness that had this almost decade-long Brooklynite pining for another late-night G Train excursion.

Even better, Babes isn’t just about pre-and-post baby drama. It’s as much an honest depiction of 30-something friendships and being single in a world that prioritizes coupling. Glazer and Rabinowitz’s writing stumbles in sections with Eden’s decision to see her pregnancy through, helped by relevant commentaries about socializing after younger, carefree party eras fade into responsibility and excruciating hangovers. There’s potent emotionality throughout Eden and Dawn’s hardships as besties in vastly different existential mindsets. Eden’s trying to wrap her head around an independent-parent pregnancy despite exhibiting childish antics; Dawn’s restarting parenthood for a second exhausting round. Babes doesn’t sugarcoat the doldrums and loneliness that come along with growing older, beyond the psychological and physical torture women endure when creating new lives.

Babes is an undeniably lovable movie when it matters, even sans Glazer and Buteau’s infectious chemistry. From lactation-fueled mushroom hallucinations to nonsensical shorthand “conversations” that are just different pronunciations of slang terms, Eden and Dawn put the fun back in dysfunctional—but they aren’t the only standouts. John Carroll Lynch makes the most of his OB-GYN as self-conscious hair choices worsen, and Minhaj’s partner is a pitch-perfect ally in the most “Yes, dear” persistence. Between Darren Criss’ put-him-on-a-watchlist doula, [redacted voice cameo] as Dawn’s breasts, and Eden’s reaction to intense early-term horniness, there’s enough whackjob entertainment to appreciate. When Babes gets closest to Broad City, or calls back to classic horror nightmares, Adlon pumps out laughs like they’re automatic.

Babes Is Sincere to a Fault

Alternatively, when Babes loses its sense of humor, there’s a wedge driven between the film’s two objectives. Some parts appear to hold back, staying on best behavior for more serious audiences, while others begrudge stuffy restraints. Oliver Platt’s performance as Eden’s flighty father doesn’t land the intended impact, nor does Eden’s decision to forgo abortion beget an appropriately revealing interrogation. Adlon’s instincts when directing dramatic crescendos rub against lighthearted gags with noticeable friction, almost like two movies vying for on-screen dominance. Glazer and Buteau’s comedic identities are harmonious, but the overall production is out of tune.

Even so, Babes doesn’t squander its comedic potential nor miss serving omnipresent views on childbirth that address its tortures, sorrows, and not-so-dreamy realities. Adlon’s no-bullshit, in-your-face roles translate into a similarly open and blunt portrayal of how mothers are treated like nameless offspring factories or the crushing depressions that can accompany one of life’s all-time miracles. It’s hardly a downer of a film, don’t get things twisted—Babes just doesn’t Hollywoodize something inherently traumatic through rosy glasses. That only makes Glazer and Rabinowitz’s story that much easier to appreciate, warts and all.

Babes (2024)

REVIEW

Babes might feel off-kilter at times, but is successfully genuine across the board—genuinely funny, genuinely New Yawk, genuinely fearful, and most of all, genuinely open about the highs and lows of pregnancy.

Pros

• Adlon, Glazer, and Buteau play to their strengths.
• There are some pretty big laughs to be found.
• No scene shies away from the grosser details that accompany baby bumps without sending audiences fleeing.

Cons

• There?s a wedge driven between drama and humor.
• Storytelling beats sometimes feel shoehorned in without a proper fit.
• Can feel like a film that?s at odds with itself.

Babes is now playing in theaters in the U.S. Click below for showtimes near you.

GET TICKETS