Poor Diane Arbus (whoever she was). Not only was she (according to this movie) a spoiled-but-sweet-acting upper East Side brat, she was a bad wife, bad mother, awful business partner; plus there is no evidence in this picture that she was any kind of an artist -- except in the bold statement in the prologue.

Nicole Kidman, who incredibly is more attractive today than 25 years ago and actually looks younger, indeed gives an excellent performance; but what can an actress do with a wife and mom who seeks out and falls for an incredibly weird werewolf-looking guy living in the apartment upstairs? Set in the early 1970's, Manhattan was a virtual magnet for freaks and weirdo's of all sizes and shapes, most not looking like human hairballs; so why is this affair worthy of a 122 minute movie?

Robert Downey Jr used to be one of my favorites, but I'd say his well known and prolonged use of drugs has taken its toll. One might think he'd be disinclined to be in a movie that treats drug use as casually as it does smoking cigarettes.

FUR has already taken a beating at the box office, but in view of those who input a score of 10 for this misbegotten slice of trash, I'd like to say, 'taint so, McGee.