New on DVD: The Back-up Plan

When the alarm on a woman's biological clock starts ringing, no snooze button on earth can truly turn the thing off.

Just ask Zoe. Sure, some folks might assume that she already owns everything the average Manhattanite could want: a comfortable apartment, a thriving business, the looks of Jennifer Lopez. But Zoe feels like something's missing ... something small and warm and burpy.

No, no. We're not talking about a Boston terrier. She already has one of those. She wants a baby. And since she's not in a relationship, she sets up a date with a fertility specialist and a vial of sperm.

Wouldn't you know it, the day--nay, the very hour--after her first clinical rendezvous, Zoe runs into Stan, a hunk-a-hunk-a-hunky cheese farmer from upstate. Edam! Zoe exclaims to herself. He's just too gouda to be true! But too true he is, just like a nice, ripe feta, and it's not long before they're going on picture-perfect dates, spending long weekends on the cheese farm and falling in love.

Oh, yeah, and growing a baby, too.

When Stan first finds out, he sours a bit on the whole relationship. But not wanting to be a

curd, he decides to stick around, molding true love out of an unusual baby-makes-three arrangement.

Which leaves us with just one question: If it's a boy, will they name him Colby?

"Some things can last forever," Stan tells Zoe. He's trying to reassure her that one of those things is their love for each other--that he'll never leave her no matter how much she may believe he has no reason to stay.

So they've got that going for them.

But then there are things that simply seem to last forever. Like, for instance, this film. The Back-up Plan was supposed to be, I think, an update of a classic romance--one that starts out with having kids, rather than ending there. It culminates in engagement and, apparently, true love. Along the way, it studiously avoids all that old-fashioned traditionalism seen in romances of yesteryear.

But I still believe in love, marriage and family, in that order. You might too. And partly because of that, The Back-up Plan didn't much resonate with me. And it strikes me that it may actually do some harm.

While the premise of the romance centers on the desire to have children and the unstated belief that acquiring them will bring happiness, most of what we actually hear about kids is negative. They put dinner on their heads. They play with unfamiliar feces. They're "awful." They're "horrid." 

Zoe, while she desperately wants children, seems to see them not as sacred responsibilities, but rather accoutrements. She's obsessed with their clothes, consumed with their strollers. And when asked why she wants kids, she says she doesn't want to be alone. 

So The Back-up Plan is about Zoe and Stan and their love for one another. The children, rather than being the film's ultimate gift, are its reoccurring obstacle. And as those twins were born, I couldn't help but think that they'd better grow up pretty quickly--just in case their parents get bored with them.

Perhaps I'm not giving due credit. After all, we do see Stan reading a bedtime story to them before tucking them in at night. Few of us, when we become parents, are truly ready. It's hard to grasp the joys, the trials and somber responsibilities that come with parenthood, and most of us learn along the way. So I should probably be more forgiving when it comes to Zoe and Stan.

But if this film has some sweetness to it, the content it displays is as sour as a hunk of gorgonzola left in the sun for six weeks. And that makes me a bit cranky. Its foul language and frank sexuality spoil whatever meager charms it might've offered.