Mike D'Angelo’s review published on Letterboxd:
68/100
Clearly, Huma Abedin's choice to remain primarily a background presence here was strategic (vis-à-vis her own career and Clinton's, not her husband's). Kriegman and Steinberg use that constraint deftly, however, and I wish they'd gone even further in positioning her as Weiner's antithesis, as all of the film's best moments involve what are essentially silent screams. Thing is, I find that I now like the guy considerably more than I would ever have guessed from the way these scandals were covered in the media. He's a self-destructive moron when it comes to sex, but so is roughly half the planet (conservative estimate), and I tend not to place a whole lot of public-trust weight on lies that politicians tell to avoid personal embarrassment and/or marital discord. So while I enjoyed this for all the obvious voyeuristic reasons, I also just found Weiner himself to be surprisingly good company—a walking definition of the adjective "scrappy." Sure, he ducks questions, but at least he does it by e.g. sarcastically noting (in response to a pointed query from Kriegman) that flies on walls aren't generally renowned for their conversational acumen. And every shot of Abedin shooting pained glances from a corner is pure gold.