Romantic comedy. Starring Jennifer Lopez and Alex O'Loughlin. Directed by Alan Poul (PG-13. 106 minutes. At Bay Area theaters.) "The Back-Up Plan" qualifies on all counts: Jennifer Lopez plays a beauteous single who's artificially inseminated moments before meeting Alex O'Loughlin's sensitive hunk of a goat farmer. But their story goes way, way beyond standard chick-flickiness. The film actually belongs to a special subcategory called the Egg-Producing Hen Movie. As such it should appeal to anyone who has ever been pregnant, thought about getting pregnant, known someone who's been pregnant, followed a pregnant woman's postings on Facebook and/or thumbed through a copy of "What to Expect While You're Expecting" while sucking on a milk shake.
As a member of all five groups, I laughed hysterically, but in the interest of balanced reporting, I should add that the guy parked next to me at the screening - a boyfriend who was there under duress - emitted a series of low guttural noises suggesting profound psychological anguish.
When it comes to the schmaltzier pronouncements in Kate Angelo's screenplay, you'll feel his pain. Purveyors of mainstream romantic comedy seem incapable of bringing them to a close without all the icky-sticky moments of Oprah epiphany. Otherwise, Alan Poul's feature directorial debut is an often riotous send-up of impending parenthood and its myriad transformations, putting truisms into modern dilemmas.
Zoe (Lopez) is weepy, barfy, hungry, horny. Her boyfriend, Stan (O'Loughlin), didn't know about the bun in the oven when he signed on for a little romance, so he's feeling a bit dazed. Guiding Zoe through the wilds of human gestation is her chick-flick-ordained sardonic buddy, Mona (Michaela Watkins), who has four children and claims to hate them all. Guiding Stan through the manly equivalent is his own acerbic helper, a nameless playground dad (Anthony Anderson) who plies him with juice boxes and sums up parenthood as the awful interrupted by the magical.
Lopez does a fine job mortifying herself in pursuit of physical humor, shifting her center of gravity in more ways than one. O'Loughlin, in the blander role, acts hurt or shocked or besotted where required, but the supporting players nearly steal the show. A single mother's support group and related water-birthing scene provide many such opportunities. And if Robert Klein does nothing else for the rest of his life, I will always love him for the way he shouts a single noun - four times, with zest - as Zoe's obstetrician. It's a few brief seconds of chick-flick nirvana.
