As a young woman in her early twenties, cabaret singer Ann arrives at the spacious Newport, Rhode Island, home of her best friend Lila Wittenborn, who is soon to marry Karl Ross.

Lila's brother (and Ann's college friend) Buddy introduces her to Harris Arden, a young doctor and the son of a former family servant.

The younger guests dance drunkenly and dive into the sea from a clifftop: Buddy joins in but fails to surface, prompting a panicked search.

When Buddy reappears at the top of the cliff, Ann expresses her anger at the prank and berates him for building her up as his true love and possibly for repressing his feelings for others.

[7] Manohla Dargis of The New York Times wrote "Stuffed with actors of variable talent, burdened with false, labored dialogue and distinguished by a florid visual style better suited to fairy tales and greeting cards, this miscalculation underlines what can happen when certain literary works meet the bottom line of the movies.

"[8] In the San Francisco Chronicle, Mick LaSalle observed "The film arrives at a pessimistic and almost nihilistic view of life as something not very important - and then invites us to take strength and comfort in the notion.

"[9] Peter Travers of Rolling Stone rated the film itself 2½ out of a possible four stars, but praised the cast, writing, "the actors ... provide flashes of brilliance.

And Claire Danes is stellar as the young Ann ... [Mamie] Gummer proves her talent is her own in a star-is-born performance that signals an exceptional career ahead.

"[10] In the St. Petersburg Times, Steve Persall graded the film C and added "Strong performances and an author's weak backbone make Evening a curious mistake ... [it] is memorable only for lovely period designs and for casting mothers and daughters to ensure better continuity.

"[11] Justin Chang of Variety wrote "The more immediate problem with this ambitious, elliptical film is Koltai and editor Allyson C. Johnson's difficulty in establishing a narrative rhythm, as the back-and-forth shifts in time that seemed delicately free-associative on the page are rendered with considerably less grace onscreen.

In ways reminiscent of Stephen Daldry's film of The Hours, the telling connections between past and present feel calculated rather than authentically illuminating.

This may in part because it was Michael Cunningham, author of the book The Hours, another stupefying exercise in unspoken angst, who was hired to punch up the script Susan Minot was trying to make out of her novel.