Enjoyed the first half, then began to tire ..of the drama of old age, nothing that millions haven’t experienced, but which, here consecrated as worthy of film study, feels overdone; of Philip Seymour Hoffman, who, in whatever role, is always the bumbler, played with a nonchalance which at first seems breezy, then studied.
Even Laura Linney, usually an indie stalwart, here overplays her hand, laughing too ruefully, grimacing too hard, telegraphing her moves.
Like almost all American movies, it obeys the maxim, “make it more,” striving to puff up something that would work as a quiet meditation into a kind of self-parodying statement piece. Hoffman can’t just be an academic; he has to sing, top volume, Brecht lyrics in German while driving, and live in a falling-down Victorian awash in papers and books. Linney