Premiere - 09/01/2002
"...A polished thriller about how the images people use to construct and define themselves can be woefully deceiving..."
Entertainment Weekly - 08/23/2002
"...[Williams provides] a snapshot of human complexity worth framing..."
Rolling Stone - 09/05/2002
"...[Williams] gives a performance that is riveting in its recessiveness and, as a consequence, is truly, deeply scary....Williams remains electrifying..."
New York Times - 08/21/2002
"...Gripping....It's a smart piece of direction....Mr. Romanek's precision is breathtaking..."
USA Today - 08/21/2002
"...ONE HOUR PHOTO takes Williams to darker, more complex places that we can't turn our eyes away from..."
Movieline's Hollywood Life - 09/01/2002
"...Williams taps into pockets of rage and madness that make this picture electrifying..."
Total Film - 10/01/2002
"...Williams pulls it off. It's a complex cocktail of a character....The effective result is enough to get you squirming..."
Viewed through our photographs, it would seem we have lived a joyous, leisurely existence. Sy Parrish (Robin Williams), who makes this observation, adversely leads a lonely life, operating a photo lab in a SavMart department store. He escapes his dreary reality through the family photos of Nancy Yorkin (Connie Nielsen) and her family. His admiration of the Yorkins becomes an obsession, as he fashions himself as Uncle Sy to little Jake (Dylan Smith). Sy's judgment becomes impaired by his unhealthy interest, causing him to lose his job of 11 years. As his final day approaches, Sy develops photographs revealing an indiscretion on the part of Mr. Yorkin (Michael Vartan). The unstable Sy now develops a disturbing, calculated plan to instill family values to the Yorkin clan.
Much of ONE HOUR PHOTO takes place inside a department store similar to a Wal-Mart, bordered in an icy blue. This cold atmosphere creates a solitary framework for the disturbed photo developer Sy Parrish, played with a melancholic detachment by Williams, working here against type. Director Mark Romanek (STATIC) has created a thriller with little violence. Instead, it is permeated with an uncomfortable fear emanating from its damaged protagonist.