Voicemails for Isabelle (2026) [TV-14] ****

A film review by Sherin Nicole for RogerEbert.com on June 19, 2026.

Grief and love can make us vulnerable; they can also open us up to new possibilities. That’s the central theme of this Black List breakout screenplay, now a Netflix rom-com. Starring Zoey Deutch as Jill and Nick Robinson as Wes, Voicemails for Isabelle follows Jill, an aspiring pastry chef, in the aftermath of losing the love of her life - her little sister. Struggling to cope, she continues to leave Izzy voicemail messages. It’s super sweet and very You’ve Got Mail, because Jill has no idea Wes, an Austin real estate agent, is now receiving her extremely personal audio diaries. He’s listening in on her deep dive into the horrors of dating in San Francisco, and he’s all in.

Written and directed by Leah McKendrick, Voicemails for Isabelle is two love stories in one. The first is the tale of two sisters. Jill is a fully self-actualized ‘live, laugh, love’ kind of girl. Izzy is chronically ill with cystic fibrosis and spends most of her time between home and the hospital. That’s why Jill is living life x 2, experiencing the biggest feelings in the most colorful ways so Izzy can experience them too. When Izzy dies, Jill doesn’t slow down, but she struggles to find a connection. After a life of dating disappointments that started on the playground, the only person she can talk to is her sister. She keeps replaying Izzy’s messages and responding with new ones. As the movie points out, it’s her attempt to heal, and that’s pretty healthy.

That’s where the second love story begins. Wes is a romantically untouchable high-dollar realtor who spends his time with his cousin Andy (Harry Shum Jr.) and Andy’s fiancée, Breeda (McKendrick). He’s the kind of guy who’ll utilize any edge to attain his goals - even the ethically questionable ones. It never occurs to Wes to stop listening to Jill’s messages or to avoid using them in getting to know her when they meet-cute. And although we cringe at his methods, the entire thing is so adorable we’re mostly willing to forgive him - if Jill does - and he learns his lesson.

This is a rom-com with many themes and an acute (sometimes pink) eye for current dating woes, social media pitfalls, and misogyny. Giving us classic rom-com aesthetics, McKendrick balances this story line whirlwind without it becoming overblown. A big part of that is the writing and cast. Deutch is fierce, but also awkward and perceptive, like Jill. Robinson’s Wes is a sweetheart, but he’s clueless with wobbly boundaries. Adding to the charm are Nick Offerman - when is he not the secret sauce - and the character-acting chameleon Lukas Gage. They’re a pair of posers/chefs who despise women, allowing the movie to cut deep into the chauvinism found in the workplace. That works well alongside the uncertainty that reigns during times of mourning. Shum Jr. and McKendrick are the bestest couple, seeing and saying what’s right when Wes doesn’t. If you don’t end up quoting them, that’s on you, bro. 

This is a true rom-com; we know where it’s going, but the good times are in the roadmap to getting there. The banter sparkles with the kind of inside jokes found in friend groups (and the writing lets us in). The grand gestures are unexpected, while the couple’s bonding moments are real, ridiculous, or both. Voicemails for Isabelle has a high emotional IQ, a romantic journey you’ll want to follow, and a real sense of the lunacy that makes life hilarious - even when we’re hurting. McKendrick packs a lot of ingredients into this big love burrito, and just like the best taco trucks, it works ‘cause it meets us where we’re at with the goods. (Nicole's rating: 3 stars out of 4)

Labels: comedy, drama, romance, tragedy
IMDb 74/100
MetaCritic (critics=62, viewers=59)
RottenTomatoes Averages (critics=67, viewers=90)
Netflix 
Sherin Nicole's original review (3 stars out of 4)

Song Sung Blue (2025) [PG13] ****

A film review by James Berardinelli for ReelViews.net on Dec 18, 2025.

If you enjoy the music of Neil Diamond, then Song Sung Blue will take you to places that not even Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show can. But if the thought of hearing Sweet Caroline one more time sounds like an act of torture, there’s nothing I can say about this based-on-a-true-story drama that will soften the blow. It’s not about Neil Diamond, but his music imbues the film with its energy and his songs are omnipresent. He never makes an appearance, but his spirit hovers over the entire production. Song Sung Blue is the (mostly) true story of Diamond’s most devoted impersonation band, Lightning & Thunder, and when magic happens on screen, it’s the result of the chemistry between Hugh Jackman, Kate Hudson, and Diamond’s iconic music.

The first half of Song Sung Blue is frothy and lighthearted, charting the romance between the two musicians - Mike Sardina, a.k.a. Lightning (Jackman), and Claire Sardina, a.k.a. Thunder (Hudson) - which began when they first met in 1989. As their act evolves, he morphs into Neil Diamond while she does Patsy Cline. Director Craig Brewer gives us full renditions of a wide variety of Diamond’s greatest hits (with the actual singer’s voice making a cameo - albeit for a Christmas song, not one of his own melodies) as a backdrop to Mike and Claire’s deepening relationship. They eventually marry and edge toward the cusp of stardom - opening for Pearl Jam and singing along with Eddie Vedder on Forever in Blue Jeans - when tragedy strikes. 

The film’s second half is more grounded. The rags-to-riches arc peters out. There are physical challenges (she’s involved in a crippling accident, he has a heart condition) and they must cope with the public’s fickle fascination with tribute acts. And, with most of Diamond’s best-known songs having been showcased during the first hour, the soundtrack becomes less pop-heavy - at least until the rousing finale. Ultimately, this structure allows Brewer to deliver a full serving of Diamond nostalgia without strip-mining the singer’s life story. It’s a far better approach and makes Song Sung Blue more accessible than either A Complete Unknown or Deliver Me from Nowhere, two recent examples of biographical overreach.

Jackman's interpretation of Lightning is solid. He’s got the singing chops and does a convincing faux-Diamond, though he has more vocal freedom since he’s not impersonating the singer directly but rather performing a second-generation version. But Jackman, for all his star power, can’t quite match Kate Hudson when it comes to lumens. This is the most magical she has been since Almost Famous, another movie about the power of music. There’s a kinship between Penny Lane and Claire - they’re soul mates of a sort - one still young and unformed, the other older and more weathered. The thing that surprised me most about Hudson’s performance was how good her voice is.

Brewer’s source material for the screenplay is a little-known 2008 documentary by Philadelphia-based filmmaker Greg Kohs, who followed the duo on and off for about eight years, assembling footage. Kohs’ Song Sung Blue did well on the film-festival circuit (it debuted at Slamdance) but never gained much traction beyond that, in part because, despite their renown in the Milwaukee area, Lightning & Thunder’s appeal never extended much beyond regional interest. Still, when Brewer watched it, he recognized the potential. 

As with most fictionalized versions of real events, Song Sung Blue doesn’t shy away from making changes to the historical record in the service of better drama and/or showmanship. The big moments in the movie are mostly reflective of real-life events, except the ending, which invents plenty of details, but the time frame is drastically condensed. Mike and Claire were connected for 17 years, but the movie shortens that to something like three or four years. (Their kids hardly seem to age.) Such quibbles, however, only matter to those who forget the mantra for movies like this: Never let the facts get in the way of a good story. And Song Sung Blue is a good story - heartwarming, uplifting, tear-jerking, and chock full of a beautiful noise. (Berardinelli's rating: 3 stars out of 4)

Labels: biography, documentary, drama, history, musical, tragedy,
IMDb 72/100
MetaCritic (critics=61, viewers=68)
RottenTomatoes (critics=77, viewers=97)
Netflix
Blu-ray
Jame Berardinelli's review (3 stars out of 4)

Ferrari (2023) [R] ****

A film review by James Berardinelli for ReelViews.net on Dec. 23, 2023.

With Ferrari, Michael Mann falls afoul of one of the pitfalls of the bio-pic: by focusing too tightly on one brief period in the main character’s life, he creates an is that all there is? feeling. Although the real Enzo Ferrari was a larger-than-life individual, the movie, which focuses on events from 1957, provides only the briefest of glimpses into the life of one the 20^th century’s icons, relying on dialogue to fill in some of the blanks. Although this approach is arguably preferable to an alternative – attempting to cram 50+ years into two hours – it results in viewers never really understanding Ferrari as a man. Despite a riveting portrayal by Adam Driver, he remains an inscrutable figure even after spending 130 minutes with him.

Ferrari drops us into Enzo’s life in early 1957, follows him through several months until just after the final Mille Miglia race (May 11-12), then exits with many plot threads left unresolved. It is therefore more of a snapshot than a full-fledged biography. The movie explores the business difficulties experienced by Ferrari (the company), which is drowning in red ink. Enzo, still emotionally rent by the death of his son, Dino (who died in June 1956), is involved in an increasingly difficult marriage with his wife of 34 years, Laura (Penelope Cruz), and is facing demands from his long-time mistress, Lina Lardi (Shailene Woodley), regarding his illegitimate son, Piero. While attempting to balance family issues, Enzo hires a new, hot shot driver, Alfonso De Portago (Gabriel Leone), and enters five cars into the 1000-mile cross-Italy Mille Miglia where a win would increase the company’s prestige sufficiently to allow Enzo to enter into a favorable partnership with a larger car manufacturer, such as Fiat or Ford.

Mann’s typical high-energy approach imbues Ferrari with intensity. The racing sequences generate tension and excitement (especially the Mille Miglia). The film is less certain when focused on more intimate interactions, such as Enzo’s dialogues with his wife and mistress. Mann’s zenith as a filmmaker was in the 1990s (when he made, in succession, The Last of the Mohicans, Heat, and The Insider). Since then, his films have been largely hit-and-miss affairs and he hasn’t made anything for eight years (2015’s Blackhat). Ferrari seems an odd choice for his return to the spotlight but, despite occasional moments of cinematic flair, one would never associate this with the man who spearheaded Miami Vice.

Ferrari is anchored by the strength of Driver’s performance. Partially obscured underneath effective aging makeup, he could easily be mistaken for Michael Imperioli. Driver’s portrayal presents Ferrari as a tragic figure trapped between a loveless marriage with a mentally unstable wife and an affair with the woman and child he wishes he could acknowledge. He is hyper-focused on business but not so consumed that he ignores the gravesite of his recently-deceased adult son, Dino. To the extent that we come to understand Ferrari, it’s more due to Driver’s performance than anything in the screenplay. He is ably supported by a vibrant Penelope Cruz, who enlivens the production whenever she’s on screen. The scene in which her character confronts Enzo with the truth behind her betrayal is riveting.

Ferrari may prove a difficult sale for distributors NEON and STX Entertainment. Despite Mann’s involvement, it doesn’t have the cache to be a prestige film and movies of this nature are typically finding greater interest on streaming sites than in theaters. Although Driver’s performance may earn some deserved Oscar buzz, that likely won’t be enough to push the needle and there probably aren’t enough sports car enthusiasts to juice the box office. As a well-acted standard-order bio-pic, Ferrari delivers but as something more, it falls short. (Berardinelli's rating: 3 stars out of 4)

Labels: action, auto-racing, biography, drama, Ferrari, history, romance, sport, tragedy
IMDb 64/100
MetaCritic (critics=73, viewers=65)
RottenTomatoes (critics=73, viewers=73)
Blu-ray
Netflix
Berardinelli's original review (3 out of 4 stars) 

Blogger's comment: While I appreciate Berardinelli's perspective, I believe this period in time was a defining moment in Ferrari's life and I appreciate the historical accuracy. The 1957 Mille Miglia was marred by the tragic death of Ferrari driver Alfonso de Portago, his navigator and nine roadside spectators, including five children, in the village of Guidizzolo when his car hit an object on the road, blew a tire, spun out and became airborne. As a result, the Italian government forever banned all racing on public roads, permanently ending the thousand mile road race.

If you are a fan of auto-racing, and you appreciate films like Grand Prix (1966), RUSH (2013), Ford v Ferrari (2019) and F1: The Movie (2025), I predict you will enjoy Ferrari.

Barefoot in the Park (1967) [G] ****

 An uncredited review published in Time magazine, June 9, 1967

Barefoot in the Park is one of the few plays to be reincarnated on-screen while playing on the Broadway stage. Happily, it loses little in transition.

Essentially, author Neil Simon has taken a plot as bland as a potato, sliced it into thin bits—and made it as hard to resist as potato chips. Two spoiled young honeymooners (Robert Redford and Jane Fonda) settle into a six-flight walk-up apartment in Greenwich Village. In Ogden Nash's phrase, a little incompatibility is the spice of life, particularly if he has income and she is pattable. And so it proves in Barefoot. The puny pad she has chosen has no heat, no bathtub, and a hole in the skylight.

When Redford remonstrates, Fonda starts sniping - only to agree to a cease-fire when her middle-class mother (Mildred Natwick) arrives. Before long, they are joined by a randy reprobate of a neighbor (Charles Boyer) known as the Bluebeard of Tenth Street. Bluebeard leads the way to an Albanian hash house that serves such delicacies as black salad and ouzo. The foursome eventually wend their way home, whereupon Fonda and Redford drunkenly declare all-out war.

She is a nut, he declares, whose idea of fun is walking barefoot in the park in 17-degree weather. Your laundry arrived, she simpers. They stuffed your shirts beautifully. But if the couple's happiness seems as short as their tempers, their misery is just as temporary. By the final reel they are neck and neck in a race for the bed, and even Natwick and Boyer have found something in common - stomach trouble.

The film is not an original-cast production. Sly substitutions have been made, notably Fonda for Broadway's Elizabeth Ashley. Jane's performance is the best of her career: a clever caricature of a sex kitten who can purr or scratch with equal intensity. Among the tastiest leftovers from the stage are Redford as the harassed husband and Mildred Natwick, skittering on the edge of hysteria as she articulates the film's philosophy to her daughter: Make him feel important. If you do that, you'll have a happy and wonderful marriage, like two out of every ten couples.

Labels: comedy, Robert Redford, romance
IMDb 70/100
MetaCritic (critics=55, viewers=68)
RottenTomatoes (critics=81, viewers=79)
Blu-ray

Blogger's comments: Barefoot in the Park is notable for another reason. When Redford asks something like: We're going to be doing this for the next fifty years? and Fonda replies: We're only going to be married for fifty years? it reminded me that exactly half a century later they would star together in Our Souls at Night (2017) and she would say in an interview that she had fallen in love with him so deeply that she would look into his eyes and forget her lines. And I can see that passion in the intensity of her performance. 

And there's something else that most viewers will not see. The opening scene of the film is at the Plaza Hotel in New York City, where they get out of their horse-drawn carriage and enter the hotel to begin their week-long honeymoon. The same Plaza Hotel setting is used six years later in the final scene of the Redford - Streisand film The Way We Were (1973).

Arriving at the Plaza Hotel, Barefoot in the Park

Final Scene from The Way We Were

Remarkably Bright Creatures (2026) [PG-13] ****

A film review by Kate Erbland for IndieWire on May 7, 2026.

There is much to admire about Olivia Newman’s Where the Crawdads Sing follow-up Remarkably Bright Creatures, another film adaptation of a beloved (and bestselling) novel. There’s Sally Field, in a role that has already earned her awards accolades, and a massive octopus voiced by Alfred Molina. There’s a crowd of chatty best pals that include Joan Chen, Kathy Baker, and Beth Grant. There are actual locations (a sea that is a sea! what an idea!). There’s Lewis Pullman, continuing to work his own dad’s (Bill Pullman's) charming everyman appeal.

And there’s something increasingly rare (yes, even more rare than Alfred Molina voicing a huge sea creature): a book-to-film adaptation that actually adapts the material, and does not just crib blindly from the original. Fans of Van Pelt’s novel might balk at what Newman and co-writer John Whittington have snipped from her story (huge apologies to Pullman’s character’s early backstory and his beloved aunt, similar regrets to Field’s character’s brother), but the trims that run throughout the film are smart and useful. They serve the story, yes, but also its new shape as a film.

And, as a film, this tear-jerking story about giant sea creatures, broken people, and huge secrets works well enough. Much like Van Pelt’s novel, it’s a cozy little drama with twists and turns that feel both inevitable and delightful. It’s all bolstered by Field and Pullman’s performances, which crackle with chemistry and good choices, nothing big or showy here. If you’re looking for a pick for the entire family, this is a solid one, and that’s no small feat in the crammed streaming world, where it can too often feel as if there’s plenty of content but nothing that feels actually made for people.

Or octopuses! At the center of the story is Molina’s tentacled avatar, Marcellus, a giant Pacific octopus who has lived most of his life at the cozy and clean Sowell Bay Aquarium, located near Puget Sound. Many of the details of Marcellus’ life — like how he came to be rescued — will be revealed later, but his primary characteristic is on full display from the start. Marcellus is really, really smart, which Molina imparts via a wry and world-weary voice-over. In Van Pelt’s book, Marcellus gets his own chapters to share his story and observations, and transferring these bits into a consistent voice-over narration is yet another example of this smart scripting.

Marcellus is, in fact, smart enough that he’s figured out how to get out of his tank, explore (read: eat some of his fellow aquarium residents), and get back in without anyone noticing. But Marcellus is growing older, so his assignations are getting slower, and the consequences of his ramblings are getting worse. Thankfully, he has at least one other creature he can trust: Field’s Tova, the aquarium’s dedicated overnight cleaner, who shares a dream of the sea that even Marcellus can deduce.

Or, as he tell us: they both dream of the bottom of the sea and what we lost there. For Marcellus, it was his freedom. For Tova, it was her beloved only son, Erik.

That Marcellus knows that, that Tova has told him about it, is the crux of the story. If you can not only buy that, but delight in it, Remarkably Bright Creatures is very much for you. (It was very much for me.)

Tova’s existence is about to be upended by the arrival of another flighty young man. Cameron Cassmore (Pullman) lands in Sowell Bay, convinced his unknown father not only lives there, but is wildly rich and perhaps interested in meeting the kid he never knew he had. Finding him, however, is proving tricky, and the perpetually down-on-his-luck Cameron sure needs a job in the interim. Thank God that most people in Sowell Bay, like local grocery story owner Ethan (Colm Meaney) are so happy to welcome outsiders. Thank God also that Tova just sustained a minor injury (she slipped while helping Marcellus, but no one can know that) and her gig at the aquarium needs a temp fill-in. Thank God he’s about to meet Marcellus.

Oh, and he’s still about to meet Tova.

Despite this rambling semi-introduction, Newman’s film makes quick work of all of this, recognizing that getting to the Tova-and-Cameron show (with, of course, many guest appearances by Marcellus) is the entire point of the picture. As Cameron adjusts to life in Sowell Bay (more bonding with Ethan, who is a little hung up on Tova, plus his own potential romance with Avery, played by a peppy Sofia Black-D’Elia), Tova starts to inch her way out of it.

The pains and pleasures of family life are top of mind for her. Widowed, heartbroken, and left rattling around the house her own father built (the film has a real sense of place, both out in the town and inside the aquarium and Tova’s home), Tova is preparing to decamp for a retirement home across the bay. Everyone — including smitten Ethan and her rowdy pack of pals — think this is a bad idea. What, however, will become most important is what Cameron thinks, and what part he comes to play in Tova’s life.

The film does occasionally lean on flashbacks of Tova and her long-gone son Erik to fill in some blanks — and lay out some real winking table-setting — but Remarkably Bright Creatures fares better when Tova or Cameron are telling their woes to Marcellus or even each other. Zippy, smart editing moves us through the story, drawing connections where necessary, bolstered by that old octopus voice-over, and gently guiding us to some major plot points.

Never fear, book lovers, the film sticks firmly to its late act upheavals and revelations, and even manages to make them feel richer and more earned here. Maybe it’s something about seeing Sally Field bond with an octopus, or watching a true inter-generational friendship blossom on screen, or maybe it’s just something more obvious: taking the best parts of a sweet story, and paring it down to its best bits. Or, well, best arms? Tentacles? Whatever can reach out and touch you, just as this film will. (Erbland's rating: B)

Labels: drama
IMDb 79/100 
MetaCritic (critics=56, viewers=45)
RottenTomatoes (critics=79, viewers=91)
Netflix