Variety
There comes a point in “Some Kind of Beautiful” when a boy, his father and his grandfather stand together on a pier, unzip their flies and proudly urinate into the Pacific Ocean — a scene of intergenerational bonding that Salma Hayek watches from afar with an affectionate “Aww, isn’t that sweet” expression on her face. It’s a wretched moment for any actress to have to play, though it’s certainly preferable to the one in which Hayek imitates a series of noisy, grunting male orgasms in front of two prim school administrators, whose expressions of withering unamusement will likely be matched by the audience’s own.
The A.V. Club
Some Kind Of Beautiful is a romantic comedy that initially sets out to reclaim the old poetic definition of “romance.” By the end, the movie succumbs to the conventions of the genre, and rushes to pair up its leads and reaffirm the necessity of couplehood—for the purposes of satisfying storytelling, if nothing else. But in the opening scenes, dashing literature professor Richard Haig (played by Pierce Brosnan) channels the spirit of his roguish father Gordon (Malcolm McDowell) and delivers a lecture to his class about how the Romantics were all about instinct and individualism, not about some idealized, Hallmark-penned celebration of love.
