Gilbert exposes a wealth of unsuspected pain and tenderness beneath Gottfried’s often thorny exterior.
At once wonderfully complex and weirdly reductive—a formula, though, that seems as sound an embodiment of the human brain as any other.
There’s no escaping the feel this film exudes of being little more than an 87-minute back-patting session.
The film has an excellent pedigree, but when it poops it stinks of a Tim Allen movie.
There’s nothing about the film that’s quite as fantastic as its depiction of the moribund SNL as culturally and politically relevant.
Unfortunately, Steve Pink’s directorial debut isn’t nearly as innovative or cool as Steve Jobs’s line of hi-tech doodads.