The consensus leans negative, and nearly every critic, admirer or not, reaches for the same word: sentimental. Most reviews agree the film is built to work on the tear ducts, and the quarrel is over whether that matters. Where praise lands, it lands on Robin Williams, whom several critics find well cast and credit with joining physical comedy to real compassion. Variety looks past him and singles out Philip Seymour Hoffman for giving depth to a thinly written part.
The spread is wide. Empire and Eye for Film find the film heartfelt despite the syrup and are moved enough to forgive it. Radio Times sits in the middle, allowing that Williams suits the role but saying the film overindulges his clowning. Total Film faults Tom Shadyac’s slack direction and sees Williams repeating earlier roles. The sharpest dissent is Philip French in The Guardian, who calls the film preachy and self-righteous and objects both to its insensitivity and to Williams’s portrait of Adams.
