Nine: B

Nine begins with a total deconstruction of the art of film in its first few seconds, and then it begins to spin this naval gazing yarn about an italian director at a loss for a script or even a story for his next film. He's surrounded by a wife, a lead actress, a mistress, a reporter and a costume designer. They're all women who have shaped him and his psyche. His wife makes him a family man, but stifles his creativity. His mistress is a plaything, but their pleasures have lost their meaning, and she becomes something he would rather keep hushed up just as she becomes tired of living inside this compartmentalized section of his increasingly chaotic public and private life.
The costume designer is the voice of reason. His lead actress is the outlet for his fantasy. She's the part he wants her to play, but (as he found out with his wife, who was once his lead actress) reality refuses to play by art's rules.

Daniel Day Lewis is a bit glum but I didn't have a problem with his performance as the conflicted director. Penelope Cruz is effective, but her mangled english tends to sabatoge her efforts at seduction, for the audience anyway. The rest of the cast is solid, but unremarkable.

The film isn't half as clever as its source material, but it does capture your attention. It doesn't have quite the freshness or vivacity of director Rob Marshall's last foray into the world of musicals "Chicago," and its soundtrack is engaging but lacks a showstopping number that you'll be able to remember even 5 minutes after the end credits roll. But it doesn have style, and it does at least try to tackle some interesting subjects.

All in all, it's pretty good. But not the home run you'd expect.

Nine: B