Kevin Kline

Unfortunately, the film's postmodern staginess assists in keeping Porter endlessly at arm's length.

No one in the film comes across as a flesh-and-blood character...Birth is overdressed with nowhere to go.

Martin's innate verbal panache is the only asset that shows any reliability here.

Currish...the film's niche audience is indiscriminate aging dog lovers; people lovers should look elsewhere.    

How relevant or relatable viewers will find all this is questionable, but fans of the actors will take true pleasure in their tart verbal sparring...

Technically qualifies as a true-crime tale, and seems to exist mostly out of a sense of marketable prurience: hallmarks of Lifetime’s infamous cable movies.

That special brand of La Streep mugging—here applied to the character of a hot-mess bar-band deadbeat mom—will wear you into submission until nothing else seems to matter. Except that it should.

Pound for pound, scene for scene, there’s not a sequence here that the original film doesn’t execute better in the clean lines of hand-drawn animation and the crisp vocals of the original cast.

A deeply moving story of a remarkable woman, its only real fault an arguable virtue: adhering to the old showbiz adage of leaving the audience wanting more.