Grace of Monaco

Kidman seemed a natural choice to play Kelly. She manages to soar in several scenes. Hampered by the subpar material, she seems utterly lost, unable to master what could have been the role of her career.

Not so much a turkey as a dodo, Grace of Monaco never takes flight and extinction is probably the best course for it.

This cack-handed snapshot of "Grace Kelly's greatest role" is destined to become another epithet-coining catastrophe, the benchmark by which badder-than-bad biopics will be judged in years to come.

This isn't just some middling turkey; this is a big, glistening, strutting turkey.

If you lock up your brain and throw away the key, the film is bearable.

This bubble-headed biopic exudes awfulness through its every perfumed and pampered pore.

Dahan’s showy direction that overstates every scene&#59; he tries to compensate for an emotionally inert drama with style and instead underscores how affectless the whole thing manages to be.

Viewing Grace of Monaco is like learning a flock of geese is secretly living inside your local library. It just keeps honking at the wrong times, all the time.

While Kidman is certainly a big draw here, an impuissant script and a lascivious amount of obsessive close-ups distract from a performance that appears to contradict the political turmoil behind the scenes.

The film isn't just bad - it's awful - ineptly directed (Olivier Dahan), terribly written (Arash Amel) and bafflingly acted by an assortment of miscast faces.