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| Has an empty, soulless feel. |
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| (Steven Rea, Philadelphia Inquirer) |
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| The talented cast fails to gel into a dynamic ensemble. |
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| (Rene Rodriguez, Miami Herald) |
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| Slight and only sporadically amusing. |
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| (Claudia Puig, USA Today) |
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| Shopworn to the bone. |
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| (Wesley Morris, Boston Globe) |
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| Like the worst of late-period Allen, the film recycles character types from his previous work without inventing new reasons to summon them into existence. They're left stranded, seven characters in search of an author. |
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| (Scott Tobias, The Onion) |
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| It's a highbrow romantic farce, without the laughs. |
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| (Michael O'Sullivan, Washington Post) |
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| A mirthless, joyless comedy with nary a hint of romance, mystery or justification for its existence. |
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| (Roger Moore, Orlando Sentinel) |
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| Woody Allen cranks out another formulaic interweave of romantic crushes, with old jazz on the soundtrack to supply some artificial gaiety and wooing scenes that play like an old man's masturbation fantasies... The paltry theme is that we can't predict the future, but I spent part of the time calculating how many more feeble movies Allen will make, based on his productivity rate (one per year), his batting average (four duds for every success), his current age (74), and his father's longevity (Martin Konigsberg lived to be 100). Are you ready for 20 more remakes of Manhattan? |
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| (J.R. Jones, Chicago Reader) |
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| The characters are one-dimensional cutouts kept at a dogged remove. Their miseries are a bore – maybe to Allen, too, who abruptly ends the film, after so much inaction, when it finally catches some dramatic traction. Still, who can blame him? I know I couldn’t get away from these shrill, complaining people fast enough. |
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| (Kimberley Jones, Austin Chronicle) |
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| The lack of bladed banter is disappointing, especially from Allen, who can throw barbs with the best of them. The exchanges in “Dark Stranger” are monotonous, draining the film of vitality as the camera lingers on repetitive ugly behavior, not the wonderfully mischievous stuff that would lend the film a stupendously lacerating identity. The screenplay drones on as the characters make awful decisions with their lives, with Allen failing to build a sinister connection that elevates the experience away from tiresome bickering. There’s one generously devious note with Roy, who screws over an infirmed friend out of desperation and perhaps spite, but that revelation comes toward the end of the picture, leaving the rest of the film to linger on nothingness. |
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| (Brian Orndorf, efilmcritic.com) |
(pictured centre), Antonio Banderas (pictured left), Josh Brolin
