Chris Pine and Jenny Slate shine in *Carousel*, delivering such strong performances that you wonder why we don’t see actors like them tackle more complex and meaningful roles. Rachel Lambert’s latest film is a unique and enchanting relationship story. It takes some time to get going, but it ultimately grabs you in a meaningful way. However, the director needs to step back a bit. Her style, while interesting, can feel overly complicated and self-indulgent. She uses a lot of background music that can be distracting, especially in the beginning. The music is meant to represent the cycle of life, like the ups and downs of a merry-go-round, but it feels a bit cliché for a film this smart and thoughtful.
*Carousel*
**The Bottom Line**
It takes its time but sneaks up on you.
**Venue:** Sundance Film Festival (U.S. Dramatic Competition)
**Cast:** Chris Pine, Jenny Slate, Abby Ryder Fortson, Sam Waterston, Katey Sagal, Helene York, Dagmara Domincyzk, Jessica Harper, Jeffrey DeMunn, Tien Tran
**Director-screenwriter:** Rachel Lambert
**Runtime:** 1 hour 45 minutes
Early in the film, there are moments that really pull you in, especially between Noah (Pine), a doctor in Cleveland with a small family clinic, and his teenage daughter Maya (Abby Ryder Fortson).
One scene shows Noah dropping Maya off at school, and she has a panic attack after realizing she forgot important papers. Lambert quickly introduces us to Maya’s struggles with anxiety and depression. Noah tries to support her but keeps his feelings to himself, as if hoping the problem will go away on its own. His quiet approach is deeply moving.
It’s not until the middle of the film, during a long and intense conversation between Noah and Maya’s teacher and debate coach, Rebecca (Slate), that the film truly deepens.
This scene takes place in a kitchen but is shot mostly from the next room, making it feel intimate and realistic. Noah and Rebecca move through anger, regret, and self-doubt, and it’s clear this conversation changes everything. From there, the film never looks back.
Noah and Rebecca were once a couple in high school, but their relationship ended in bitterness when Rebecca left Cleveland to pursue a political career and Noah stayed to build a family.
When they reconnect through Maya at a farmers market, they seem like strangers—except they both were in the same high school play. But when they’re alone together, it’s clear there’s still a strong connection between them, along with unresolved emotions.
Noah is dealing with the pain of his recent divorce from Maya’s mother, the loss of his mentor at the clinic, and the grief of losing his father.
He pushes these problems aside to support Maya, but a relationship with Rebecca feels overwhelming. When Maya is away for a summer program, Noah breaks down, physically unable to move or even leave the airport for days.
Rebecca has her own issues—her aging parents, a friend who worries she’s worked too hard in politics to end up teaching high school, and a complicated past with Noah.
Despite all this, the love between Noah and Rebecca is never in doubt. The film shows how people build emotional walls to protect themselves from the messiness of relationships, but it also shows the importance of taking risks and being open to love.
The film ends with a quiet, beautiful scene that leaves a lasting impression.
It’s a fitting conclusion that balances melancholy with hope. The film is shot in a soft, intimate style using 35mm film and a boxy aspect ratio, enhancing the emotional depth. Lambert is deeply observant of the small details that shape how people connect. Returning to the theme of solitude after *Sometimes I Think About Death*, the film is flawed and requires patience, but it’s ultimately rewarding thanks to the powerful performances of Pine, Slate, and Fortson. Pine has never shown so much emotional depth and sorrow, while Slate’s character slowly reveals a longing that challenges her choices. Fortson, who impressed in *Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret*, is growing into a talented actor with both heartbreak and strength.
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