Gabriel Anderson’s review published on Letterboxd:
The closing moments reveal an investment in the first- and second-hand experience of pop superstardom that was otherwise negligible (and often absent) from the first frame onward. As a result, I need a little more time, and likely another screening, before I can confidently support my primary reading of the film as a 65mm-deep-shadow comedy of PTSD and its commodification. I don't even think these two sentences contradict one another (quite the opposite, in fact); it's just that I feel sufficiently thrown that I can't balance the equation. Regardless, this is an extraordinary experience, and that includes Portman's preening Staten Island hurricane.