Mooney is the main reason to see Brigsby Bear, the sort of indie dramedy that wears its on-the-spectrum quirk on its sleeve.
It often feels as if Brigsby Bear has such an 'unusual' concept that the creators were then scared to lean into it, making everything about its delivery feel like it's designed to soften the sharp edges and lighten its darker tones.
The film does have jokes, but Mooney, channeling the spirit of Peter Sellers, delivers them all without even the slightest hint that he knows he's joking.
Mostly it's a sweet and sometimes delightful melancholic story of a lonely man saved by imagination and love.
Scrappy and modest though [the] movie may be, it all coheres beautifully, and with a sweetness that never feels faked.
A slight, handcrafted indie that's sweet, skewed, and feels a bit like a skit stretched out to feature length.
A sweet-natured picture with an undercurrent of prickly energy.
Brigsby Bear offers a glimpse on what makes Mooney and his man-child persona work. There's strength in embracing awkward, childlike wonder.
McCary, Mooney and Costello are friends who like weird stuff, who made a movie about weird stuff, within which is the making of a movie about weird stuff, and how it can bring people together. That's real enough of an equation for the filmmakers.