It's often hysterically funny, especially when allowing its talented cast to play up to their individual strengths.
It does manage to deliver on the promise of an escapist fantasy.
If the humor gets a bit one-joke - I wish Molly Shannon's Mother Superior, in particular, had more to do - "The Little Hours" is nonetheless a cohesive vision.
A winning ensemble brings present-day attitude to Boccaccio's irreverent sex comedy.
A medieval convent comedy for the megaplex crowd, one that dispenses with the notion of nuns as prim-and-proper old maids who spend their days praying, and instead treats them as rude-and-repressed young women ...
"The Little Hours" is a bawdy bagatelle that has more than a few droll moments. But it was probably at its most pleasurable and amusing in the making.
This foul-mouthed medieval romp is occasionally hilarious and frequently improper - though a little more scripting and a little less romping would have served it well.
The film manages to be both crudely hilarious and bluntly satiric while also establishing sympathetic characters, a sharp contemporary wit, a sly, dry absurdism ... and a "Handmaid's Tale"-like subversiveness.
Though very funny, "The Little Hours" remains low-key and subtle in its effects. There's no winking or nudging, no straining for laughs. Baena devised the material, and he trusts it.