Metacritic reviews

(Ford and Thomas) give Random Hearts muscle when the story turns flabby, spine where it sags, wings where it threatens to stay earthbound.

The film's underlying concept is so irredeemably screwy and far-fetched that no amount of fine work can hope to make it convincing.

Not a conventional love story, and perhaps it's not a love story at all. After more than two hours, you're left wondering what it is.

Sorely needs the injection of skepticism - a quality that would have been even more useful when Pollack was mulling over doing Random Hearts in the first place.

The film confines them to an affair that is the sexual equivalent of Easy Listening.

A sloppily scripted film that contains a silly and superfluous subplot about a crooked cop.

Has spread itself so thin between plot, subplots and great scads of floppy pop-psych, it has nothing else to do but lie down and die of exhaustion.

It risks the believability factor for anyone who's ever been cheated on or lost a loved one.

Humorless, lugubrious, and interminable.

Hollywood hit-making at its efficient, formulaic worst.