The Tomatometer rating – based on the published opinions of hundreds of film and television critics – is a trusted measurement of movie and TV programming quality for millions of moviegoers. It represents the percentage of professional critic reviews that are positive for a given film or television show.
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The Tomatometer is 60% or higher.
The Tomatometer is 59% or lower.
Movies and TV shows are Certified Fresh with a steady Tomatometer of 75% or higher after a set amount of reviews (80 for wide-release movies, 40 for limited-release movies, 20 for TV shows), including 5 reviews from Top Critics.
Percentage of users who rate a movie or TV show positively.
Perhaps too audacious for some and too coy for others, Breakfast on Pluto is one of those mercurial movies where you really have no idea where it'll take you next. Like its star, it's smart, mischievous and fearless.
The very characteristics that keep him alive and kicking are the ones that keep you at arm's length. No surprise, then, that even the satisfying and semi-satisfying conclusions to various narrative threads don't quite satisfy.
Beneath the film's monotony, one senses a whiff of cop-out, of playing it safe: Patrick, for all his tender yearnings, shows no lust, no messy ego. He's a saddened saint in pouffy shirts, and Jordan turns his crying game into one big, long whine.
Murphy's tour de force as the eternally optimistic Patrick surely deserves an Oscar nomination. Thanks to Jordan's bravura storytelling, Breakfast on Pluto is one of very few movies this year truly worth remembering.
So dense with dying fizzle and limp ideas that I began to wonder if Jordan has an evil twin, or if there are in fact several Neil Jordans, among them at least one literate stylist and one humor-handicapped village idiot.
While the sunny production values and '70s bubblegum soundtrack carry the film up to a point, there's a more-of-the-same quality to the narrative that simply can't sustain its 36-chapter, 135-minute running time.