The supporting cast is flawless, with a special mention owed to Brad Dourif as poor, doomed Billy Bibbit. But the script lacks the woozy, otherworldly subtlety of Kesey’s book, relying instead on pop psychology and finger-pointing: once again, it turns out women are to blame for pretty much everything.

Nicholson’s live-wire performance turns what could have been a standard movie malcontent into a martyr.

Chris Nashawaty

Entertainment Weekly

Its honest and forthright depiction of mental illness, combined with Nicholson’s tour-de-force bull in a china shop performance, mean that it has lost none of its power to provoke and entertain in the four decades since its release.

Maximilian Von Thun

CineVue