The Falling Star

“The Falling Star” offers little in the way of dramatic tension or intrigue, and its comedy, mildly clever at first, starts to feel repetitive.

Desperately needs that magnetic tug audiences typically feel when a sad lonely man and a sad lonely woman orbit one another for 90-odd minutes. Here, we get 98 very odd minutes with hardly a hint of romance. It’s that spark The Falling Star lacks.

While its intricately choreographed silliness is occasionally inspired, even audacious, it becomes tiresome.

One could probably count on a single hand how many of ... [the jokes] actually work and still have uncounted fingers remaining.

Once the plot is activated, the coincidences become less cute, the messaging less effective. It’s, frankly, the problem with much film noir: the style is the thing while the rest too often breaks the spell.

For those of us that seek something off the beaten path, this is the type of picture we fall for.

[Abel and Gordon's] mime-like prioritization of physical comedy is at the root of their films' droll sense of humor, but their keen sense of how to use stillness for maximum impact is what really elevates their work.

A dull, meandering and unfunny misfire that quickly runs out of steam.

With broad, cartoonish visual gags and physical comedy, it looks back to silent films and vaudeville, to Charlie Chaplin and Jacques Tati. Very few edits would have to be made for this movie to have believably been released a hundred years ago.

The Falling Star’s belly-laugh hit-rate proves patchy, and the studied air of zaniness occasionally comes across as more infantile than inspired. Scenes reliant on dialogue tend to fall flat.