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House of the Sleeping Beauties
Metascore
21 out of 100

Generally unfavorable - based on 8 Critics

Critic score distribution:
  1. Positive: 1 out of 8
  2. Mixed: 1 out of 8
  3. Negative: 6 out of 8
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  1. New York Post
    Reviewed by: V.A. Musetto
    75
    It would be easy to dismiss House of the Sleeping Beauties as a lewd male fantasy, but that would be ignoring the German film's deeper purpose as - in the words of the director, Vadim Glowna - a meditation on "transition, remembrance, mourning, guilt, loneliness, sex and death, eroticism and dying."
  2. Salon.com
    Reviewed by: Andrew O'Hehir
    50
    A self-indulgent and icky film, but reasonably well made and undeniably addictive.
  3. The Hollywood Reporter
    Reviewed by: Frank Scheck
    30
    Ultimately, the film doesn't succeed in its thematic aspirations, proving yet again that great literature doesn't usually transfer successfully to the screen.
  4. Chicago Sun-Times
    Reviewed by: Roger Ebert
    25
    House of the Sleeping Beauties has missed its ideal release window by about 40 years. It might -- might -- have found an audience in that transitional period between soft- and hard-core.
  5. Christian Science Monitor
    Reviewed by: Robert Koehler
    25
    With the mounting number of first-rate, even masterly foreign-language films locked out of movie theaters due to wary distributors, it's worth pondering why such laughable dreck as German actor-writer-director Vadim Glowna's House of the Sleeping Beauties actually made it through.
  6. The New York Times
    Reviewed by: Jeannette Catsoulis
    10
    Not even the august presence of Maximilian Schell can dispel the odor of fusty smut that clings to House of the Sleeping Beauties, a clammy meditation on sex, death and the endless fascination of unclothed innocence.
  7. Village Voice
    Reviewed by: Vadim Rizov
    0
    One of the year's worst releases. A second viewing of "Synecdoche" would be less painful.
  8. Chicago Reader
    Reviewed by: J.R. Jones
    0
    Glowna presents this smoky German feature as an elegy for lost youth, but it's so tumescent with male self-pity that I couldn't wait for it to end.
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