Ironweed

The movie generates little suspense and no relief. And yet it is worth seeing as a chamber piece, an exercise in which two great actors expand their range and work together in great sympathy. Both Nicholson and Streep have moments as good as anything they have done. Read full review

Ironweed asks a lot with its 140-plus minutes of low-key suffering. It feels long, in part because not a lot happens from a plot perspective. Still, its strongest moments linger. Read full review

Ironweed is the love story of two bums, the swan song of a haunted man, a character study of abiding humanity. It's a sad movie. Beautiful, too. [12 Feb 1988, p.C1]

Ironweed is more than a chance to watch two multimillion-dollar actors play bums. Each character has a particular story; each is given a dignity that seems honest in the context of a worldwide Depression in the late '30s, and at no time are we certain what the future holds in store for either character. [12 Feb 1988, p.A]

At last, a real part for Nicholson to sink his teeth into. Read full review

Ironweed is strong stuff. [21 Dec 1987, p.68]

Ironweed is decent fare, not excellent. It gets by on the strength of the unexpected. Read full review

At many key junctures, the movie's persistent realism keeps it drifting in the weeds when it could have soared into the clouds. [18 Dec 1987, p.25]

Good performances, but If you're looking for an uplifting tale of hope against despair, look elsewhere. Read full review

Despite its nearly two-and-a-half-hour running time, its superstar cast and its $23 million budget, Mr. Babenco's Ironweed is skeletal, a mere outline of Mr. Kennedy's far more resonant book. Read full review

Even illuminated by the unsparing performances of Jack Nicholson as Francis and Meryl Streep as Helen, his companion of nine years and another soul stumbling away from grace, the film becomes becalmed and confusing; it lacks the novel's great unwavering trajectory. [18 Dec 1987, p.1]

Ironweed, the new film by Hector Babenco starring Jack Nicholson and Meryl Streep, comes about as close to being an unmitigated waste of talent as any movie in recent memory. Read full review

The director, Hector Babenco, treats William Kennedy's Albany novel, set in 1938, as a joyless classic; the movie has no momentum--the running time (144 minutes) is like a death sentence.

Ironweed doesn't work despite the stellar performances of Nicholson as former baseball pro Francis Phelan and Meryl Streep as his pal, Helen Archer, the former musician whose booze-ravaged voice still bears the air of cultivation. [12 Feb 1988, p.5]

Unrelentingly bleak, Ironweed is a film without an audience and no reason for being except its own self-importance. It's an event picture without the event. Whatever joy or redemption William Kennedy offered in his Pulitzer prize-winning novel is nowhere to be found, surprising since he wrote the screenplay. Read full review

For a few flickering moments, we care a bit about the people, but then it's gone. There's little plot, and the picture is far too long and fraught with allegory. Director Hector Babenco's sense of style is evident, but a sharper editing eye would have helped. Read full review