"When we were fourth-graders, Phil wrote and performed a parody of Mr. Rogers. It’s a common enough reaction for a budding culture vulture: to make fun of the sincerity of the gentle TV icon’s work. An approach so easy, a fourth-grader could do it. We first met Mari Heller 20 years ago, hanging out in our circle of similarly sarcastic comedians — and then, as now, she was interested in more than just undercutting earnestness. Her insightful, incisive, curious and, as always, confident new film makes us laugh, but it’s all part of the con. The laughs start with Rogers’ refusal to conform to the expectations of Lloyd, the flummoxed cynical guy who can’t believe Rogers is for real. We begin to laugh instead at Lloyd’s frustration, and before long we are left exposed, without an off-ramp, leading us irrevocably to getting what we secretly came for — to cry our eyes out. Fitting that her film about our fear of emotion is delivered with a fearless emotionality that moves us even as it mystifies. Where are the deflecting jokes that protect us from thinking too deeply about what scares us? Is she just going to like, let us cry? Is Tom Hanks just going to stare into my soul and make me grateful for my family? The least she could do is provide every audience member with tissues. We could write 10 paragraphs on her playful use of miniatures, how she always seems to bring out the best in her cinematographers, how she continually finds a way for the form of her film to surprise while never forgetting to reflect its purpose. We could compliment her knack for getting great actors to give some of their greatest performances, how under her care, Tom Hanks roams the movie with inspired playfulness, genuine caring, and private struggle to be his best self. We could even reflect on how a Brooklyn feminist has chosen this maddening, radicalizing, spine-pretzeling cultural moment to make a film about simply being good, and being good simply. But we would rather focus on her warm, disarming way of letting Rogers’ idiosyncrasies — like his snapping of personal photos or his silly puppet voices — first baffle us into a laugh, the way they did when we were smart-aleck adolescents, and then inspire us to grow up (or not!) and accept his loving embrace."

"When we were fourth-graders, Phil wrote and performed a parody of Mr. Rogers. It’s a common enough reaction for a budding culture vulture: to make fun of the sincerity of the gentle TV icon’s work. An approach so easy, a fourth-grader could do it. We first met Mari Heller 20 years ago, hanging out in our circle of similarly sarcastic comedians — and then, as now, she was interested in more than just undercutting earnestness. Her insightful, incisive, curious and, as always, confident new film makes us laugh, but it’s all part of the con. The laughs start with Rogers’ refusal to conform to the expectations of Lloyd, the flummoxed cynical guy who can’t believe Rogers is for real. We begin to laugh instead at Lloyd’s frustration, and before long we are left exposed, without an off-ramp, leading us irrevocably to getting what we secretly came for — to cry our eyes out. Fitting that her film about our fear of emotion is delivered with a fearless emotionality that moves us even as it mystifies. Where are the deflecting jokes that protect us from thinking too deeply about what scares us? Is she just going to like, let us cry? Is Tom Hanks just going to stare into my soul and make me grateful for my family? The least she could do is provide every audience member with tissues. We could write 10 paragraphs on her playful use of miniatures, how she always seems to bring out the best in her cinematographers, how she continually finds a way for the form of her film to surprise while never forgetting to reflect its purpose. We could compliment her knack for getting great actors to give some of their greatest performances, how under her care, Tom Hanks roams the movie with inspired playfulness, genuine caring, and private struggle to be his best self. We could even reflect on how a Brooklyn feminist has chosen this maddening, radicalizing, spine-pretzeling cultural moment to make a film about simply being good, and being good simply. But we would rather focus on her warm, disarming way of letting Rogers’ idiosyncrasies — like his snapping of personal photos or his silly puppet voices — first baffle us into a laugh, the way they did when we were smart-aleck adolescents, and then inspire us to grow up (or not!) and accept his loving embrace."