While screenwriter Steven Schwartz's words never rumble onto the screen like Paddy Chayefsky's did in Lumet's 1975 "Network," there is enough outrage at contemporary managed-health fiascoes here to fill several movies and a couple of op-ed columns. James Spader is a third-year intensive-care resident at a slightly futuristic, money-driven urban hospital, who becomes enmeshed in the legalities surrounding the case of a comatose man being kept alive for his estate rather than whether he has any chance of recovery. Some of the acting is awful -- turn your eyes away from Kyra Sedgwick as a gold-digging airhead -- and a subplot involving Wallace Shawn as an emissary from hell is subpar. But there is the spectacle of Albert Brooks as a doddering alcoholic who runs the ICU, cutting to the heart of the film's concerns behind old-age makeup and with vaudeville-sharp timing. With Helen Mirren, Jeffrey Wright, and behind a wimple and lofting, winged white headgear, Anne Bancroft.
--Ray Pride
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Critical Care 
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Critical Care 
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