The Dish and The Spoon

Beautifully photographed, "The Dish & the Spoon" is awash in images of rain-soaked streets and gray wintry skies.

For once, an American indie's muted modesty at least makes emotional sense, suiting a bittersweet romance that, by nature, has neither a name nor a future.

Bagnall successfully exploits the seriocomic disparity between the supercharged relationship offscreen and the desultory one onscreen.

Gerwig handles her character's extreme mood swings with finesse.

Director Alison Bagnall crafts a model independent film, a miniature story told with feeling and humor...

Not so much an actual movie as an assortment of Amerindie affectations, The Dish & the Spoon doesn't waste a moment on recognizable reality, consumed as it is with checking off various items from its list of clichés.

Less dish than dishrag, Greta's broken woman does a stunning, kind of Albert Nobbs role reversal stud predator in drag. But this road movie detour into destination cautionary cougar romance, is not nearly as daring as its whimsical if troubled humans.

The Dish and Spoon poses the possibility that, from a different proximity, the MPG is a volatile beast and far more than the promise of your fantasies can actually tolerate.

The film might be described as a notion that never quite grows up to be an idea, bookended by more or less scripted scenes that wouldn't have been out of place in a Goldie Hawn movie.

With its deliberately quirky characters and meandering series of events, this mumblecore movie is enjoyably ramshackle, constantly catching us off guard with spiky humour or warm emotion.

Too good-natured to hate but familiar enough to be instantly forgettable, The Dish and the Spoon is one for mumblecompletists only.

Quickly dissolves into an alternately spastic and drowsy mulch of Sundance-y clichés.