The reviews split down the middle, and what they agree on is narrow but firm: Dustin Hoffman. Almost every critic, favourable or not, singles out his performance, and the recreated nightclub routines are the scenes most often praised, along with Valerie Perrine’s supporting turn. The smoky black-and-white photography and the sharp editing draw approval from both camps, and admirers find the newsreel-like structure gripping rather than distancing.
The disagreement is over everything around those routines. Detractors, who slightly outnumber admirers, find the dramatised biography shallow: the semi-documentary approach keeps Bruce at arm’s length, the script is thin, and the film either sanctifies him as a martyr or flattens him into biopic cliché. The New Yorker’s Pauline Kael calls it cold, Vincent Canby in The New York Times rates it about a quarter brilliant, and Roger Ebert thinks the Citizen Kane-style framing gets in the way. The spread is wide, from warm early trade praise to a recent verdict that it is simply boring.
