Ben Stanton’s review published on Letterboxd:
Watched this a few weeks back. One of a hundred films made like this: sourced from semi-distinguished contemporary lit: under-cooked, under-adapted, under-scrutinized and, all in all, beneath the serious talents of many of the names attached—namely, Ben Mendelsohn and Edie Falco.
Holofcener appears hamstrung on this opposite coast, and little comes naturally from the cloistered, upper-crust milieu. Often what finds its way into the frame feels arch and packaged compared to the natural blooms of cacti, stones and sunlight in the Los Angeles of Enough Said.
And so much of the movie doesn't feel as though it belongs in this time or in this place and I ultimately think that contemporary, well-to-do-ennui-lit makes for pat movies that are below the pedigree of the generous directors, who, in their private reading lives, enjoy these middling books.