| Original Score: 0/5
All the leads are ultimately betrayed by a script almost as silly as the idea of building a romcom around a pregnancy guide.
| Original Score: 2/5
What to expect? Not a lot.
In the end there is enough pregnancy humour to give audiences a good old belly laugh.
Technically the genre isn't beneath contempt. But this movie is.
Someday Hollywood will think of women as more than fallopian tubes in heels; until then, we're stuck with this kind of project.
On the whole, I'd rather give birth.
| Original Score: 1/5
Mutual loathing and eye-rolling sustain - horribly - many of the couples involved.
Favouring pratfalls over wit and insight, the picture offers only occasional respite in a "dudes group" of dads who meet in the park with their offspring, led by Chris Rock.
Some laughs while you are watching but that old deja vu feeling just won't go away.
| Original Score: 5/10
Poor Kirk Jones, who directed Nanny McPhee and Waking Ned, can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear of a script. But he could have left out the golf cart chase.
One of those resolutely bland Hollywood star machines that bears no resemblance to the real world at all.
It's exactly what we expected it to be. If you're going to have a baby it'd be a good thing to watch. It shows all the things people say to you.
| Original Score: 3/5
While it's not better than you might expect, it passes the time entertainingly enough.
What to Expect is a shallow and sickly-sweet offering that's best avoided.
Has just enough humour and engaging performances to prevent cramps and nausea during viewing.
The film has a job to do and laughs are provided, if not as laugh-out-loud as fans of Knocked Up and Baby Mama may be expecting.
Largely predictable, by-the-numbers fare, but the likeable cast ensure that it remains just about watchable, even if the laughs and genuine emotional moments are thin on the ground.
An awful ensemble comedy to complete that Valentine's Day / New Year's Eve box-set, complete with sexist clichés.
What To Expect When You're Expecting is the kind of witless schmatz-fest that gives women's pictures a bad name...