Director: Leah McKendrick
Writer: Leah McKendrick
Stars: Zoey Deutch, Nick Robinson, Harry Shum Jr.
Synopsis: Jill leaves voice messages to her deceased sister telling her about her chaotic life in San Francisco. Unwittingly, a mysterious Austin real estate agent begins to receive their confessions..
Zoey Deutch has found a niche helping revitalize the streaming romantic comedy. An actress gifted with comic chops, she can carry a film (Buffaloed), steal any scene she’s in (Zombieland: Double Tap), or disappear into the most immersive and elegant of roles (Nouvelle Vague). However, with Voicemails for Isabelle, Deutsch hits differently.
The talented actress strikes the right balance between comedy and emotional weight in Voicemails for Isabelle, delivering a turn that evokes the performances that once earned stars the moniker “America’s Sweetheart.” Deutch’s performance is gleefully adorable and, at times, poignant, with the end of the first act warming even the coldest of cynical hearts.
This is a Netflix film that doesn’t try to jazz up the rom-com recipe, but knows just the right ingredients to make this notch in the date-movie genre such an enjoyable experience. A good genre film knows that too much sweetness can overwhelm, too much bitterness can water down the charm, and too much heat could undercurrent tenderness.
Unlike others that borrow from far greater films, Voicemails for Isabelle does so knowingly; that cannot be denied. However, the creative team pairs those familiar ingredients with a near-perfect balance of timing and restraint. The final product is absurdly funny, remarkably sweet, and honors the great ’90s rom-coms that made the genre so beloved in the first place.
The story follows Jill (Deutch), who has just graduated from culinary school and moves to San Francisco to work in the kitchen of the renowned Chef Bastien (Nick Offerman), a man who loves a good boys’ club. Jill is stuck at the kumquat station, a fruit they seem to use far too much at this establishment, living out her dreams but starting at the very bottom.
Jill left her family behind for this, including her father (The Shawshank Redemption’s Gil Bellows), her mother (Tanis Dolman), and her baby sister, Isabelle (Ciara Bravo), her best friend, who has been living with cystic fibrosis for as long as Jill can remember. They are cute as buttons together, singing Swedish pop music, while Jill frequently skips special occasions, like the prom, to be with her kid sister.
That is, until Isabelle dies in the film’s most emotional scene. When Jill is told, she cannot comprehend what the words “she didn’t make it” mean. To grieve, Jill calls Isabelle’s cell phone and leaves messages as a way to process the profound loss. However, she doesn’t realize Isabelle’s number has been reassigned to a local real estate agent, Wes (Love, Simon’s Nick Robinson), who finds joy in Jill’s messages, sparking an unexpected connection.
From writer-director Leah McKendrick (Scrambled), the film is sincere in its intentions but cannot help finding absurdly funny moments in Jill’s dating life. One wonders why such a beautiful woman has trouble finding someone, especially when her options include a Big Conjunctivitis skeptic, a Shemar Moore-looking podcaster with an English accent that feels like your standard cliché, and a coworker who cries during sex almost as quickly as he finishes.
That becomes a running theme, going back to her prom date, so I guess she could take it as a compliment. More importantly, though, the comedy takes a look at the guys in a rom-com who are obvious non-contenders, taking swings at the insecure just as much as the “typical” player. However, McKendrick uses these moments in two ways: to underline the bond between sisters and to build a well-earned sight-unseen romance.
The chemistry between Deutsch and Robinson is magical at times and always palpable. Of course, when you have two good-looking people whose connection is underlined by the shared grief of losing loved ones at such a young age, the resulting vulnerability rings true onscreen, even if, in real life, that kind of intimacy may not always translate into lasting compatibility.
Yet this is a movie, and certainly not Blue Valentine; this is a young love at its most optimistic. This is a mainstream movie meant to be enjoyable and breezy, one that will make you laugh, cry, and swoon, albeit in a manipulative way, with the most earnest intentions that are winsome and quirky. If there was ever a rom-com that could be described as “winning,” this would be it.
That’s why Voicemails for Isabelle is worth watching, celebrating what made the genre so celebrated, a throwback to the likes of Pretty Woman, Sleepless in Seattle, While You Were Sleeping, and You’ve Got Mail. Deutsch and Robinson bring old-school Hollywood charm, along with sharp writing, openheartedness, and old-fashioned romantic hope, making this familiar formula feel effortless, personal, and new again.
You can stream Voicemails for Isabelle exclusively on Netflix starting June 19th!
