Check out one of the very first reviews to come out about Push. The review makes the film sound very promising which is good to hear! The movie was screened and received with a standing ovation at the Racquet Club.

From: Chud
The rest of the cast performs just as strongly. Before this morning I had written Paula Patton (Mirrors, Hitch) off completely as an actress. But Push shows that, given the right material, Patton can be luminously beautiful and emotionally vivid.

From: HitFix
Push is an inspiring and powerful film that will put Daniels on the map as one of cinema’s emerging talents. Now, all he has to do is figure out how to pull off an equally rewarding encore

From EW
Push is gritty and sometimes ugly, and while it never falls into the tropes of uplifting message movies, it does offer more than a shred of optimism at the end. The cycle can be broken and there can be hope. But the movie is honest: that hope isn’t easy to find, and it comes at a price. Push is a tough movie, but it might also be a great one.

Sometimes, a movie has to take you down — and I mean down, really far — in order to lift you up. Push (pictured), adapted from a novel by Sapphire (the film’s full, rather awkward title is Push: Based on the Novel By Sapphire), does just that. The picture is utterly merciless in how it presents its heroine: a teenage girl from Harlem named Precious Jones who is a stunted, abused, childishly inarticulate, morbidly obese shell of a human being, with a face so inexpresssive — so utterly locked in — that it might be a visor clamped down over her real features. The director, Lee Daniels, shows us the awful circumstances that have caused Precious to be the way she is (she is pregnant — for the second time — by her drug-addict father), and the actress Gabourey Sidibe plays her without a flicker of sentimentality, but with barely visible tremors of emotion that cue us to everything this arrested girl is holding back. Push shows us how a young woman who is nothing but a thick, bruised wall of walking scar tissue slowly emerges, pulling herself out of her living hell, and Daniels demonstrates unflinching daring as a filmnmaker by going this deep, this far, this ruthlessly into the pathologies of rage and dependence that can still linger in the haunted closets of impoverished African-American life. Push is one of those films that make you think, “There but for the grace of God go I,” but it’s a potent and moving experience, because by the end you feel you’ve witnessed nothing less than the birth of a soul.