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The actors hit their marks and say their lines; the movie looks polished and professional. And it's completely empty, unable to interrogate its subject in any way that matters.
A faithful and often moving look in the life of J.D. Salinger, a warts-and-all portrayal that succeeds in large part because of a dynamically persuasive performance by Nicholas Hoult.
It's not without its charms and solid observations about the perils and passions of the writerly life, but it's too blunt, too neat, and entirely too starry-eyed about both the creator and his creation.
We see the young Salinger stuck at his desk lighting matches and throwing pages in the garbage. We see his trembling hand hovering above a page. There is sometimes music. When all else fails, there's a montage.