Alright, fellow tapeheads, let's rewind to a time when marital mix-ups on screen didn't involve reality TV crews but rather the tightly wound comedic genius of Dudley Moore at the absolute peak of his charm offensive. Pop that worn copy of Micki + Maude (1984) into the VCR, maybe give the tracking a little nudge, and settle in for a farce that feels quintessentially ‘80s, orchestrated by a master of the form.

This wasn't some obscure find buried at the back of the rental store; Micki + Maude was a bona fide hit back in the day, a slick Hollywood comedy riding the wave of Moore's immense popularity following 10 (1979) and his Oscar-nominated turn in Arthur (1981). And who better to steer this ship of delightful domestic chaos than Blake Edwards, the man who gave us the sublime slapstick of the Pink Panther series and, significantly, directed Moore in 10? It felt like a match made in comedy heaven, and for the most part, it truly delivered.
The setup is pure, glorious farce: Rob Salinger (Dudley Moore) is a TV reporter utterly devoted to his wife Micki (Ann Reinking), a successful lawyer climbing the judicial ladder who fears pregnancy would derail her career. Frustrated by their childlessness and Micki's focus on work, Rob has an affair with the charming cellist Maude (Amy Irving). And then, the unthinkable happens. Maude gets pregnant. Wracked with guilt but genuinely caring for Maude, Rob plans to divorce Micki and marry her... right before Micki joyfully announces she's pregnant too. Cue the frantic juggling act as Rob tries to maintain two separate lives, two households, and two expectant mothers, both blissfully unaware of the other's existence.

It's a premise that hinges entirely on the escalating absurdity and the central performance. And let's be clear: Dudley Moore is the engine of this film. Watching him trying to navigate this self-inflicted minefield is a masterclass in comedic anxiety. His expressive eyes dart around, his diminutive stature seems to shrink further under the weight of his lies, and his physical comedy – a hallmark honed under Edwards' direction – is pitch-perfect. Remember that scene where he’s trying to juggle phone calls, slamming receivers down, whispering frantically? It’s the kind of controlled chaos that Moore excelled at, making you simultaneously exasperated and deeply sympathetic towards his character's impossible situation. It's a testament to his charm that Rob remains likable, even while engaging in some profoundly questionable behaviour.
Giving Moore equally talented scene partners was crucial, and the film lucked out with Amy Irving and Ann Reinking. Irving, perhaps best known at the time for her roles in Carrie (1976) and Yentl (1983) (and her high-profile marriage to Steven Spielberg), brings a lovely warmth and sweetness to Maude. She’s the more traditionally romantic figure, radiating an earthiness that contrasts nicely with Micki’s ambition. Ann Reinking, a legitimate Broadway superstar transitioning more into film, imbues Micki with intelligence, drive, and a subtle vulnerability beneath the power suits. It’s fascinating to learn that Reinking, a Tony Award winner for Chicago (1996 revival) and renowned choreographer, brought such grounded presence to a role that could have easily become a caricature. The film smartly avoids making either woman merely an obstacle; they are distinct individuals caught in Rob's web.

Of course, we also get reliable support from actors like Richard Mulligan (TV's Soap, Empty Nest) as Rob's bewildered boss Leo, adding another layer of exasperation to the proceedings. His reactions often mirror the audience's own disbelief.
Blake Edwards knew his way around a sophisticated comedy, blending witty dialogue with precisely timed physical gags. While Micki + Maude doesn't quite reach the manic heights of Clouseau, Edwards' fingerprints are all over it. The pacing is brisk, especially as Rob's lies become increasingly elaborate and his schedule impossibly tight. The film builds towards its inevitable climax – the simultaneous deliveries – with a sense of escalating panic that Edwards stages beautifully. Was the dual-hospital-room dash a bit predictable? Sure, but the execution, relying on Moore’s frantic energy and Edwards’ knack for visual humor, sells it completely. There’s a slickness to the production, a glossy sheen common in mid-80s Hollywood comedies, but the core humour feels grounded in classic screwball traditions.
Interestingly, the script by Jonathan Reynolds reportedly kicked around Hollywood for nearly a decade before Edwards and Moore breathed life into it. Its journey to the screen highlights how sometimes the right talent pairing is needed to unlock a premise's potential. The film earned its success, pulling in over $75 million on a reasonable budget (a solid hit back then!) and even snagging Golden Globes for Best Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy, and Best Actor for Moore. Critics were generally kind, recognizing the charm and craftsmanship even if the premise strained credulity.
Watching Micki + Maude today is like unearthing a perfectly preserved time capsule of mid-80s mainstream comedy. Yes, the central conceit relies on deception that plays differently now, and the gender dynamics feel very much of their era. But the film’s charm is undeniable, largely thanks to Dudley Moore’s winning performance and Blake Edwards' assured direction. It delivers genuine laughs built on character, situation, and expert comedic timing – the kind of practical, performance-driven humor that feels increasingly rare. The lack of CGI reliance forces the comedy to come from the actors and the script, giving it that tangible, relatable feel we remember from watching these films on slightly fuzzy CRT screens. I definitely recall catching this multiple times on weekend afternoons back in the day, always getting caught up in Rob's increasingly sweaty predicament.
Justification: A strong rating for a genuinely funny and well-executed 80s comedy classic. Moore is fantastic, the supporting cast shines, and Edwards directs with skill. It earns points for its charm, successful execution of a tricky premise, and delivering consistent laughs. It loses a couple of points for dated elements and the inherent predictability of farce, but its entertainment value holds up remarkably well.
Final Take: A reminder that sometimes the most tangled webs weavers (Dudley Moore in peak form) can still spin comedy gold, especially when a master (Blake Edwards) is pulling the strings – a must-watch slice of 80s Hollywood farce.