Clearly, I'm keeping with my "highest-quality movies of all time" theme going here by watching and reviewing Baby Mama. I often get this confused with Casablanca myself.
In all honesty, sometimes, you need brain candy. Especially when you've been couped up for a week on modified bed rest, watching people do such fascinating things like laundry and emptying the dishwasher and walking their dog with a level of jealousy previously reserved only for taste-testers in the Cadbury chocolate factory (all of my talent is going to WASTE!). And so rather than move on to the No. 3 Greatest Movie of All Time, On the Waterfront, I watched Baby Mama. Do not judge me.
In case you couldn't guess from the cover or the title or your previous knowledge of Tina Fey and Amy Poehler, Baby Mama is about a career-driven woman who waits too long to have children, discovers she's infertile, and hires a white trash surrogate to help her out. Fey's Kate is an executive with a Whole Foods/Trader Joe-style organic food store (with her hippie boss hilariously played by a ponytailed Steve Martin) and while her professional life is going splendidly, she never got around to marrying or trying to have kids. Now 37, she tries in vitro fertilization only to find that her T-shaped uterus is not the ideal gestational home for a baby.
That leads her to hiring a surrogate from a company run by the most fertile should-be-post-menopausal woman in Sigourney Weaver. The company presents her with Poehler's Angie, who moves in with Kate after she becomes pregnant and breaks up with her common law husband (played by Dax Shepard). The two have the typical bitter battles you would expect between an upper-class yuppie and her white trash baby mama. Kate needs to come out of her perfectly constructed shell. Angie needs to grow up and come clean about a lie she lives with for most of the movie. How could things possibly work out in the end?!?! Don't worry; they do.
The movie was exactly what I thought it would be and that's good. Oscar-bait movies are all fine and good but they take a level of mental effort that I just don't have on a late Sunday afternoon. This. This is what I wanted and needed.
And no, just because this and Juno are both in my DVR at the moment does NOT mean that I am some baby-movie-obsessed junkie. If my DVR is an indication of my life, I'm also a meth cooking Mexican serial killer while also reigning as one of the top home-chefs in America.
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