Motherhood is a perpetually dangerous place, filled with dread and fear and necessary
losses. By their very nature, our children must depend on us, reject us, abandon
us. But we cannot, ever, abandon them. And if, for some reason, we must leave them,
it is our profound responsibility and unerring instinct to ensure their continued
well-being. It's a rich vein, and director Columbus is given all the right machinery
with which to mine it. Unfortunately, his shiny product is more silverplate than
sterling. Stepmom is the tale of two adversarial mothers, one a birth mother who
is as passionate about, and committed to, her maternal toils as any driven career
woman, and the other a stepmother-to-be, a successful young photographer who is thrust
prematurely into full-blown, reluctant motherhood. The film's characters, a wealthy
lawyer (Harris), his gorgeous young girlfriend Isabelle (Roberts), and his stunningly
competent ex-wife Jackie (Sarandon) are straight from a layout of Town and Country,
all glossy and composed. They live a lush life - in a Manhattan loft, a Hudson Valley
country home - their lives rich with gorgeous props, perfect lighting, and extravagant
detail. But all that cosmetic shine dulls the intense, heartrending humanness of
the story. Jackie, for all her russet earth-motherness and exaggerated civility can't
help but detest her glamorous successor, and Isabelle's earnest efforts just make
her more irritating. The children resent the interloper, especially 12-year-old Anna
who turns her considerable adolescent venom and contempt on her vulnerable stepmother
at every opportunity. Jackie quietly, deliciously feeds the fire until she is given
a diagnosis that forces her to view Isabelle as her children's savior rather than
her own competitor. Save for the stars' extraordinary big-screen charisma and an
astonishingly effective performance from young Malone as Anna, these characters are
too remote, too pretty, and too unrealistic to move us in any lasting way. Short
term, however, Stepmom delivers. Saying goodbye, facing the ultimate maternal fear,
is trenchant, if familiar, stuff and Stepmom fairly drips with it. While fully recognizing
the film's heavy-handed manipulation, it's actually fun to surrender to the gut-wrenching
sensations, to fly through the cycle of the seasons and emotions that are so artistically
painted on the screen (closing, of course, with the obligatory, heartwarming Christmas
scene). Watching Stepmom is like walking past a grand house at night, its curtains
open and lights ablaze. We pause, curiously involved in the tableau unfolding within.
We can gawk at the decor, marvel at the dresses, get momentarily caught up in the
visible actions of the people inside. But because we are so utterly removed from
that milieu, our interest flags, our walk resumes, and the moment slips away.
--Hollis Chacona
Capsule Reviews
Stepmom 
Stepmom 
Other Films by Chris Columbus
Bicentennial Man 
Nine Months 
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Girl 6 
To Die For 
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