I didn't think it was possible for Daniel Day-Lewis to be anything but brilliant, but director Rob Marshall ("Chicago," "Memoirs of a Geisha") has seemingly accomplished the impossible.
To put it kindly, Marshall is not a particularly bold or stylish director in his own right (as anyone who managed to make it through the slog that was “Memoirs of a Geisha” can attest) and trying to overtly emulate Fellini’s style would have led to disaster.
He is the middling director who created the deeply shallow prettyfest Memoirs of a Geisha back in 2005, and ruined the fuck out of John Kander and Fred Ebb's Chicago in 2002 - in this reviewer's eyes, one of the strongest stage musicals ever created, and one might despair that if he could do that, then Nine never had a chance.
Here, Marshall, who enjoyed a freshman triumph with Chicago and endured a sophomore slump with Memoirs of a Geisha, doesn't so much build a musical drama as wrangle an indifferently paced variety show.
There isn’t a single intriguing, amusing, passionate or inspiring visual to be found in Nine, directed by Rob Marshall whose previous credits include the bland Memoirs of a Geisha, and the acclaimed Broadway musical adaptation, Chicago.
Marshall, whose previous films include the popular but unarresting adaptation of the stage hit Chicago and the visually beautiful but listless Memoirs of a Geisha, has gathered in Nine an impressive stable of on- and off-screen talent but never gets these various pieces to jell.