Metacritic reviews

As a love letter to a talented and endearing soul, it's hard to fault Love, Gilda. Like its subject, it feels remarkably honest and genuine.

Dapolito gets at what Radner represented to those who followed her, and what Radner recognized in herself, that play-acting comedy let her “be prettier than I was, be people I could never be…Comedy allowed me to be in control of my situation.”

A comprehensive remembrance of Radner’s public legacy is underpinned by an engrossing insight into her private struggles, making for an informative and poignant showbusiness story.

What makes Lisa D’Apolito’s Love, Gilda special is that D’Apolito has a secret weapon: Gilda Radner herself.

It’s no easy task to find a fresh way to approach a familiar face, but D’Apolito does a wonderful job ushering us through the highs and lows of Gilda Radner’s life.

There’s no happy ending to this story, but it’s a pleasure to spend just a bit of time with Radner again.

A warm if not quite comprehensive-feeling biography of a performer who, even for a celebrity, elicited an unusually strong personal affection from fans, Lisa D'Apolito's Love, Gilda tells the far too short story of Gilda Radner.

Love, Gilda is plain but beautifully crafted. It draws you close to Radner, presenting her rise through the world of ’70s comedy as a journey of discovery.

Love, Gilda is the rare documentary that could stand to pile on longer clips of its subject’s early years without feeling indulgent. Once you start watching Radner, it’s hard to stop, and the sheer force of her talent and the way she reveled in sharing it remains contagious.

The emotional impact is ultimately surprisingly muted; she dies too soon, and the movie ends. Then again, it’s hard to blame anyone for assuming that consistent access to Radner’s voice, in moments both public and candid, would be enough. She radiates such joy, all these years later, that it nearly is.