[MILD SPOILERS] Could be easily dismissed as liberal propaganda if its hero were ever redeemed and it weren't so singularly effective. Niccoll's usual vices are all in attendance, chief among them the ham-fisted narration, derived from his sheer inability to convey information through anything more subtle than basic exposition. His refusal to think more like a filmmaker, less like a writer, would cost him more if his cast weren't so uniformly superb. Cage reclaims his post as America's most underrated actor.
[MILD SPOILERS] I was afraid this would take the happy homemaker angle — punishing Reese Witherspoon for dedicating herself to her career (instead of a home and family) with death, where she'd finally find redemption in the arms of the admittedly and indisputably sexy Mark Ruffalo. But instead of taking a position that antiquated, it veers into right-to-die territory, hurling Reese not to her untimely demise, but into a coma with a fixed expiration date. Her spirit wanders around, proof that her life is still viable, but her family is told that it was her desire not to prolong her life artificially. Pulling the plug would be not only the end of her life, but the end of her chance for true love with Ruffalo — their only real "nourishment" after years of emotional isolation. On an emotional level, I'll admit that the movie worked for me; I mean — it's freaking cute, OK? But the political waters it treads are indelibly murky to the point of distraction. Had it avoided the termination of life support altogether, then we'd be talking, OK? The coma should be just a device so they can live happily ever after, like a modern "Sleeping Beauty." Instead, it's The Terri Schiavo Story.
Incredibly fucking lame.