For those all too familiar with [Swinton's] now archetypal aesthetic, ORLANDO will breathe new life into one's appreciation of her as both an actress and an icon. Potter's talents are no less extraordinary; a penchant for transformation is evident in most of her films, though it's realized more explicitly in this one.
Swinton’s androgynous affect has rarely been better exploited: It’s a kick to see her transition among Orlando’s numerous identities, whether wooing a Russian princess or submitting to the charms of the horseback-riding Shelmerdine (Zane, coming on like a locks-flowing Fabio of the moors).
Rarely have source material, director, and leading actress been more in alignment than in Orlando, the 1992 adaptation of Virginia Woolf’s novel, directed by Sally Potter and starring Tilda Swinton.
A beautifully shot, imaginatively constructed, occasionally absurd, but more often tartly funny reverie on the limits of human existence and the possibility of transcendence.
[T]he movie attempts nothing less than the deconstruction of Western civilization's patriarchal underpinnings. Orlando falls somewhat short of the mark regarding that objective but despite the inconclusiveness of Potter's critical analysis, the movie is continually thought-provoking and challenging.