«Immanenza e trascendenza, inferno e paradiso, colpa e redenzione, sono le chiavi della vicenda raccontata da Heaven, diretto dal tedesco Tom Tykwer […] basato su una sceneggiatura scritta da Krzysztof Kieslowski, che doveva essere la prima parte di una nuova trilogia comprendente Paradiso, Inferno e Purgatorio (Heaven, Hell e Purgatory). II grande regista polacco fece in tempo a scrivere l'intera sceneggiatura di Heaven e solo alcune parti degli altri due capitoli quando la morte lo colpi a soli 54 anni. La vicenda è tipicamente kieslowskiana nei suoi quesiti sul peccato e I'espiazione, nei suoi percorsi di redenzione, nelle sue storie fatte di incidenti del destino e di fatalità. Carichi di significati simbolici sono i luoghi della vicenda. Torino nella prima parte, con i pochi esterni visti da inquadrature fisse o con suggestive riprese dall'alto a mostrarne la sua stupefacente geometricità, uno spazio rigido, statico, immanente appunto, dal quale sembra impossibile fuggire. Montepulciano nella seconda parte, in cui il treno dove i due protagonisti viaggiano, arriva dopo aver percorso un lungo tunnel, è un luogo solare, luminoso, uno spazio aperto per la trascendenza» (E. Bartoni, “Film” n. 62, marzo-aprile 2003).

«Film esecuzione testamentaria, con cui Tykwer rende omaggio a Kieslowski adattandone l’ultima sceneggiatura. La sequenza d’apertura è, in effetti, un congegno di casualità che scompaginano le intenzioni umane, in conformità con lo sguardo perpendicolare e demiurgico del regista polacco. Ma poi Tykwer si svincola dai destini imperscrutabili e racconta un amour fou allucinato e assurdo, come già era La principessa e il guerriero. […] L’ultima inquadratura, con la m.d.p. ferma in basso mentre i due si involano in elicottero, sigilla degnamente un film che crea senso rovesciando, anziché sviluppando, le proprie premesse» (e.t., “Segnocinema” n. 123, settembre-ottobre 2003).

«La frenesia del regista che corre Tom Tykwer ha una battuta d’arresto e si smarrisce davanti a una sceneggiatura di Krzysztof Kieslowski e Krzysztof Piesiewicz. È facile e ovvio (ma è inevitabile) immaginare che cosa questa storia sarebbe diventata, grazie al suo inimitabile sguardo da entomologo dell’anima, se a dirigerla fosse stato lo stesso Kieslowski. […] Le sospensioni, lo stallo etico, la percezione dolorosa dell’esistenza, l’ansia della libertà, l’impassibilità emotiva, la paura e la tentazione dell’assoluto restano intenzioni in un film recitato roboticamente da Ribisi, con un mix lessicale (italiano e inglese) cacofonico, con un’idea del paesaggio da foto per un catalogo di viaggi, con un’impotenza espressiva che elenca i nodi del testo e non sa scioglierne neanche uno» (E. Magrelli, www.film.tv.it).

«Tykwer has said of Heaven that "the basic theme is redemption". It is how this comes about that provides the depth of the movie, in which the action and the dialogue – even between the main characters, which may not be obvious on first viewing – is minimal. In his message to Philippa, Filippo explains that once they have been able to break her out of custody, “… then we will think what to do next, because I believe there will be something and it will be beautiful”. Even before this, after watching Philippa cry on learning of the deaths she did not intend, Filippo has admitted to his father that he is in love. At first, however, she is not convinced that anything special is occurring and tells him that she agreed to escape not to avoid punishment, which she fully deserves, but only to kill Vendice. It is important to realise the situation in which the viewer finds him - or herself at this early stage in proceedings: Philippa has slain four innocent people, even if unintentionally, including two children. Tykwer is careful to spend time with them beforehand as they chat tenderly with their father; in the lift itself, they count the floors as they travel upwards. There can be no suggestion that Tykwer is minimalising the extent of what Philippa has wrought, or presenting an apologetic for it. She then goes on to kill Vendice, a man who could easily have been portrayed as the embodiment of evil but instead is given a scene in which he calls his partner to lament his being called away and hence arriving home to her late. Moreover, when Philippa shoots Vendice it is with Filippo's help, the latter holding the door closed to prevent Vendice avoiding his death. For the more observant, too, we can notice Philippa touching wood for luck on her way to plant the bomb and valuing her own life when she is almost knocked down at a road crossing even as she is about to take that of another. She also calls Vendice's receptionist to ensure no one other than her target is hurt, which demonstrates how calculating and considered her actions are. What we find, then, is that both Philippa and Filippo are perhaps as far from our sympathies as they could be, and yet there is something wonderful about his unquestioning and immediate love for her in spite of everything that makes us curious about what will happen to them, or how matters can possibly be saved or put right. Tykwer hints at this in a typically Kie?lowskian shot (recalling Delpy in the hotel room in White) when the two wake up together in their hiding place, staring into one another’s eyes in silence. It is easy to regard Filippo's behaviour as simplistic, or as a moral failure on his part to realise the magnitude of what she has done and that, straightforwardly, she should be brought to justice for it. Nothing was straightforward for Kie?lowski, though, particularly moral issues. Where others had and have the confidence to pronounce on what should or should not be, Kie?lowski explored the grey areas where easy answers were seldom (if ever) to be found. The question prompted for us – as viewers – to answer is: given these circumstances, complicated by Carabinieri corruption but where guilt is nevertheless clear-cut, can Philippa be saved? Another aspect of life that Kie?lowski was fascinated by is synchronicity, and often in his work lives that ostensibly were disconnected would meet and prove to be intimately related, the most detailed example being the mirroring of Joseph Kern's mistakes in August Brunner in Red, giving the latter the chance to choose differently and hence save the former. This theme of salvation not through grace or faith but rather the simplest of gestures runs through Kie?lowski's oeuvre and we pick it up again in Heaven. The synchronicity involved in achieving this becomes apparent when Philippa and Filippo are on a train bound eventually for Montepulciano and she asks him his age. It turns out that their birthdays match, Filippo having come into the world at the moment when Philippa was receiving her first holy communion. We notice (if we have not already) that their clothing is identical, and begin to realise why Kie?lowski had Philippa say to Filippo "I don't even know your name", as if there could be any doubt. When they visit the barber and together have their heads shaved, the implied is made concrete» (P. Newall, www.galilean-library.org, 2005).