9 Songs is a one-of-a-kind picture, though it definitely illustrates why more movies like this aren't made. It concerns sexuality, a touchy subject even the most adept filmmakers can have difficulty taking on. Because the line separating intimacy and pornography is so thin, directors tend to stick close to one of these camps, with films covering the gray area in between virtually nonexistent. Unfortunately, although 9 Songs tries to deliver a romance that's more true to life than the corniest of Hollywood's melodramas, it ends up as little more than a glorified make-out session.

In what's best described as an "erotic" rendition of Before Sunrise, Kieran O'Brien and Margo Stilley play Matt and Lisa, two strangers who are about to get to know one another very well. The former a British glaciologist and the latter an American tourist, the two pair meet at a Black Rebel Motorcycle Club concert and have a sexual interlude soon after. More encounters follow over the coming weeks, as do the performances, as the young lovers take time from living in the throes of passion to enjoy acts that range from Franz Ferdinand to the Von Bondies. But Matt comes to find their relationship endangered by Lisa's free-spirited ways, leaving him to decide whether to call off the romance or enjoy what little time is left before they must part.

9 Songs was directed by Michael Winterbottom, the chap behind some of the decade's more unique dramas (including career highlight 24 Hour Party People). For this film, he intended to shatter what he perceived as cinema's "extremely conservative and prudish" attitude toward sexual relations. It's a bold experiment, one very much worth undertaking, and it might have been a resounding success, had it not been for the joylessness Winterbottom brought to the table. Cornball comedies that don't have the slightest idea of what true romance are a dime a dozen, but there are still those few films that realize how wonderful being in another's company can truly be. 9 Songs may be more true to life, but it still doesn't change the fact that it's a miserable viewing experience. I'll take Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman belting out pop tune medleys in Moulin Rouge! or the bedroom commentary in Annie Hall over the many, many sex scenes here, which are indeed explicit but feel so only to satisfy Winterbottom's misguided ambitions.

Though 9 Songs may only last an hour plus change, it feels about four times that length. It doesn't help that every second, you can see Winterbottom straining to achieve poignancy, struggling to hammer home a message with every new song or roll in the hay. Unfortunately, you never learn enough about David or Lisa to care the slightest about their relationship. Winterbottom depicts things in a very cold and clinical way, treating the story more as a case study than a romance (which, as you can imagine, is the last thing a romance should resemble). There's also a soullessness to the dialogue, which amounts to a series of mini-crises which the film just breezes through with some rather terrible editing. As for the musical aspect, I think Winterbottom attempts to form a soundtrack for this period in his characters' lives, but such an approach also suffers from poor execution. In fact, the concert scenes define the film's overall style: choppy, distant, and ultimately unsatisfying.

The old saying, "I'm not mad; I'm just disappointed" was made for movies like 9 Songs. You can't help feeling crushed at the way Winterbottom takes a concept that could've defined modern romance as we know it, then turns it into a series of snippets from home movies you wish you hadn't seen. I'll give 9 Songs credit for a good idea, but the finished product is a slow, ugly, and pretentious waste of celluloid. 

MY RATING: * (out of ****)

(Released by Sony Pictures Home Entertainment; not rated by MPAA.)