All Critics (106)
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Top Critics (30)
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Fresh (10)
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Rotten (94)
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DVD (6)
It's a fable that's too fabulous by half.
Because dark secrets always summon flashbacks, the telling of Tom's plunges us back to Greenwich Village, circa 1973. Sideburns sprout, classic rock proliferates and lapels run amok. Then the horror really begins.
A sweet but inept coming-of-age tale.
In need of a tighter narrative and, more importantly, a raison d'être.
As soon as Williams enters, simpering, this is a character that we wish would die a horrid death, or at least disappear. That's a problem Duchovny can't overcome.
House of D dawdles along as the sort of 1970s-inflicted coming of age reminiscence that feels like the unprocessed ramblings of its creator.
Off-putting drama of growing up male in the 1970s.
Nothing wrong with working out borderline incestuous fixation issues. But a film still has to be more than your very own shrink, and reach out to the audience and rise above psychodrama interplay more suited to the therapist couch.
Nothing wrong with working out borderline incestuous fixation issues. But a film still has to be more than your very own shrink, and reach out to the audience and rise above psychodrama interplay more suited to the therapist couch.
While his script is good, even poetic at times, it certainly cannot be called an outstanding effort.
House of D is a delightful coming of age drama/comedy that deals with weighty matters of the soul.
Not only does Robin Williams play a retarded man with fake teeth, but he also gets to wear old-age makeup. It's the schmaltz trifecta!
... In this house, "D" is for dull.
David Duchovny's first stab at writing and directing takes him to a place close to his heart - the New York of his youth.
Maybe not a "D," but this coming-of-age yarn from writer-director-actor David Duchovny certainly rates no better than a "C."
Were it not for the cast attached to this project, I doubt it would ever see the inside of a movie-house.
Duchovny cares dearly for these characters. ... Unfortunately, he's little more than a novice when it comes to keeping clichés out of the storytelling process.
As synthetic and embarrassing as the knit lace-up shirt the 12-year-old hero wears to his first boy-girl dance.
Somewhere in between a good first effort and a fascinating train wreck.
There exists a difference between stylized dialogue and trite, hackneyed dialogue.
Dour, dry Duchovny's directorial debut is more weepy than creepy, a conventional coming-of-age story that flashes back to 1970s New York City.
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