I suspect that if I knew more about the man, his report, or indeed 1950s America, I would have had a happy time spotting inaccuracies; I also imagine that both the opposition to Kinsey's work and the facts he uncovered about sex in the USA were far grimmer than portrayed.
It was a rather ploddy and predictable movie, lurching along a blindingly obvious path from plot point to plot point: oho, they've made eye contact, they're going to shag. The characters, apart from the principals, were two-dimensional and the dialogue was nothing to write home about. The entertainment was all in the acting.
Liam Neeson really looked the part and gave a stonking performance, especially in tandem with Laura Linney (though I did keep thinking of Dr von Scott's dating classes as he lectured students on the clitoral orgasm). My favourite player was the lovely John Lithgow as preacher Kinsey Senior, hamming it up through a sermon on the evils of the zip fly.
A recurring theme was the question of whether there is a line, or indeed a distinction, between behaviour that is frowned on by convention and behaviour that is actually wrong. The conclusion seemed to be that nothing is wrong as long as nobody gets hurt, which is something of a wishy-washy truism.
My favourite bits were the montages in which interviewees confessed to
Fifty-five years since the publication of Sexual Behavior in the Human Male and I'm sitting in the cinema giggling helplessly because Liam Neeson has just said 'jacking off'. How much progress have we really made?