Babes

Buteau and Glazer bring a subtle wisdom to the roles, which is only further illuminated by Adlon’s musical direction that enhances both’s comic timing.

Pamela Adlon’s directorial debut deftly juggles fast-paced anecdotal comedy with rich, moving character work, while upending pregnancy myths with the ferocity of a woman stamping on her oppressive breast pump.

[A] deceptively weighty comedy about wisecracking New York besties and the pregnancy that threatens to tear them apart.

Where the film really excels is not so much in the snappy, trash-talking vag banter, but in the perceptive depiction of the gear changes in a female friendship as the besties start to realise that their paths might be diverging.

You needn’t have the faintest idea who Ilana Glazer or Michelle Buteau are. It’s enough that this pair of US comics spark and connect, hilariously, as two lifelong friends who complete each other’s sentences.

We need more pregnancy movies, yes, but this bun could have done with a little longer in the oven.

At its best the film eases off the comedy a touch, enabling the lead duo's mutually supportive performances and the film's exploration of the joys of friendship to shine through.

I wish Hollywood would give us more outrageous, crass, and completely unapologetic female-driven comedies like this.

Visually “Babes” rarely rises above the level of an ‘80s made-for-TV movie. But Adlon shows in her feature directing debut that brilliant sense of comic timing, along with a big heart and some deep wisdom.

It’s a testament to Glazer and Buteau’s chemistry and comedic timing (no less than Jon Stewart adroitly called them the “dirty, dirty Laverne & Shirley”) that you’re drawn into their story, even if some of their antics are rather over the top.