The third act is bogged down with details of Kate’s backstory, and what should be a euphoric and cathartic finale is underwhelming.
What are people saying?
What are critics saying?
You are well aware of the shameless manipulation and can second-guess exactly where it is going and yet resistance is futile. It tugs at the heartstrings with such determination and sincerity that there may not be a dry eye in the cinema.
If you’ve seen even one based-on-a-true-story British misfit hobbyists movie, you already know the tune.
We’re in safe, formulaic territory here, think Calendar Girls with less nudity and more harmonising, and it’s the film’s strict adherence to the rules of the subgenre that proves to be both a blessing and a curse. It works for the most part because, when done well, there’s something irresistible about the formula ... But there are also times when Military Wives starts to creak.
A nice enough time that never really aspires to be anything more, “Military Wives” isn’t just the kind of movie that ends with Sister Sledge’s “We Are Family,” it’s the kind of movie that ends with the entire cast singing along.
The Irish Times by Donald Clarke
If the writers were really doing it by the numbers there’d be a drunk one, a foreign one and a mad one. Cattaneo gets the digits back into the formula, however, for a rousing finale that – as we all knew it would – bounces back from a last-minute setback.
In a classic Brit-com flanking manoeuvre, the film tries to simultaneously reduce the viewer to tears while inviting us to bask in the fuzzy glow of our friends and neighbours’s innate decency. Luckily it succeeds, thanks in no small part to the commitment shown by Horgan and Scott Thomas.
The Hollywood Reporter by Leslie Felperin
Eminently entertaining ... Sure, it shamelessly panders to our collective sense of duty to support the troops — and, of course, also support the families that support the troops — and maybe it's more than a little manipulative and formulaic. But gosh darn it, it's hard not to warm to a film that features an a cappella version of Yazoo's "Only You," a near-derelict car that may or may not be called Shite Rider and Kristin Scott Thomas having a verbal catfight in a parking lot.
The Guardian by Peter Bradshaw
Kristin Scott Thomas and Sharon Horgan saddled with a by-the-numbers script in a well-meaning but hackneyed Brit flick.