The Hollywood Reporter, October 28, 2005

by Michael Rechtshaffen

Chronicling the precarious first year in the life of a baby born 100 days prematurely, "little man" is a deeply personal, often wrenching documentary that raises pertinent and difficult questions about choices made and their potential ramifications.

Filmmaker Nicole Conn ("Claire of the Moon") turns her camera inward, and the unflinching results can make for tough viewing, but the film, which has been collecting a slew of festival awards, including best documentary feature at Chicago's IndieFest, carries the kind of emotional pull that could put it on the shortlist of this year's docu Oscar contenders.

Being released in select markets by Jour de Fete Films, "little man" demonstrates considerable crossover potential in its ability to universally inspire dialogue and debate.

Carried by a surrogate mother whose true physical condition had not been revealed to Conn and her partner Gwen Baba, preemie Nicholas weighed all of one pound when he was born in 2002.

In the face of near-astronomical odds against his survival, Conn would not only spend the majority of each of the first 158 days of the baby's life in the Natal Intensive Care Unit -- making her constant presence known to every doctor, nurse and technician -- but she brought along cameras to document every tenuous life-and-death moment.

Along the way, Conn's feverish obsession becomes the film's tricky sticking point, provoking tough questions like: When does caring become cruelty, especially when failure to thrive is a condition that extends to Nicole's relationship with her mate and their preschooler daughter?

Shot on digital video and backed by a tender score by Mark Chait, this starkly intimate,this starkly intimate, compelling family portrait makes the passing of judgment complicated as it takes a hard look at the making of sacrifices and the often costly physical and emotional price that can come with them.