Goodrich – Film Review

Hallie Meyers-Shyer’s Goodrich is a warm, bittersweet comedy that dives into the complexities of family, redemption, and the art of balancing ambition with relationships. Bolstered by Michael Keaton’s nuanced performance, the film navigates its blend of humor and heartfelt moments with a tender touch, even as it occasionally stumbles under the weight of its numerous subplots.

At the center of Goodrich is Michael Keaton’s portrayal of Andy, a 60-year-old art dealer whose life is upended when his wife enters rehab, leaving him in charge of their young twins. Keaton imbues Andy with a disarming mix of charm, vulnerability, and self-deprecating humor. His transformation from a self-absorbed workaholic to a man striving to connect with his family feels authentic, even when the narrative occasionally veers into predictable territory. Keaton’s ability to capture both the comedic chaos of parenting and the emotional weight of regret anchors the film, ensuring Andy’s journey resonates.

The film boasts an impressive supporting cast that enriches its narrative tapestry. Mila Kunis delivers a layered performance as Grace, Andy’s estranged adult daughter. Her character’s resentment and eventual thawing toward her father provide some of the movie’s most poignant moments. Carmen Ejogo’s Lola, the grieving daughter of a deceased artist, offers a compelling subplot that ties Andy’s professional and personal struggles together, even if it feels underdeveloped at times.

Michael Urie brings levity as Terry, a struggling actor and fellow single parent who becomes Andy’s unlikely confidant. His scenes with Keaton are genuinely funny, adding a touch of camaraderie to Andy’s otherwise isolating circumstances. Vivien Lyra Blair and Jacob Kopera, as Andy’s twins Billie and Mose, steal several scenes with their precocious charm, grounding the film in the innocent perspectives of children navigating a turbulent family dynamic.

Meyers-Shyer’s script walks a fine line between comedy and drama, often succeeding in delivering laughs while exploring serious themes. The chaotic parenting mishaps, from missed school drop-offs to awkward parent-teacher encounters, are hilariously relatable and serve as a sharp contrast to the film’s more somber moments. Andy’s strained relationship with Grace and his attempts to salvage his failing gallery highlight deeper issues of neglect and redemption, lending emotional weight to the otherwise light-hearted narrative.

However, the film occasionally struggles with tonal consistency. Some transitions between humor and drama feel abrupt, and certain comedic beats undercut the gravity of pivotal emotional moments. While these missteps don’t derail the film, they do hinder its overall cohesiveness.

Goodrich ambitiously weaves together multiple storylines: Andy’s newfound role as a full-time parent, his attempts to reconcile with Grace, and his efforts to save his floundering gallery. While these threads are individually compelling, the film occasionally feels overstuffed. The subplot involving Lola and the estate of her mother’s artwork, though intriguing, lacks sufficient development and resolution, leaving it feeling more like a plot device than an organic part of the story.

Similarly, Naomi’s absence, while central to Andy’s growth, is treated more as a narrative catalyst than an opportunity for meaningful exploration of addiction and recovery. This choice keeps the focus squarely on Andy’s journey but at the expense of deeper insights into the family’s dynamics.

Meyers-Shyer’s direction leans into the warm, visually pleasing aesthetic reminiscent of her mother Nancy Meyers’ films. The Los Angeles backdrop, with its cozy homes and art-filled galleries, provides a picturesque setting that contrasts with the chaos of Andy’s personal life. Cinematographer Jamie D. Ramsay captures these spaces with a polished, inviting glow, making the film visually engaging even during its quieter moments.

Composer Christopher Willis‘ light, whimsical score underscores the film’s comedic beats while adding subtle emotional depth to its dramatic scenes. The music never overwhelms, instead serving as a gentle complement to the story’s shifts in tone.

At its core, Goodrich is a story about second chances and the rediscovery of priorities. Andy’s evolution from a detached art dealer to a present father and grandfather is a heartfelt reminder that it’s never too late to repair relationships and embrace personal growth. The film’s exploration of intergenerational dynamics, particularly the parallels between Andy’s neglect of Grace and his desire to do better for Billie and Mose, adds emotional resonance.

While the narrative occasionally opts for easy resolutions, its sincerity and charm keep the story grounded. The film’s final act, which focuses on the fragility of familial bonds and the importance of showing up, delivers a satisfying emotional payoff.

Despite its strengths, Goodrich isn’t without its flaws. The pacing can feel uneven, particularly in the middle act, where the various subplots compete for attention. Some character arcs, such as Naomi’s and Lola’s, could benefit from more depth and nuance. Additionally, the film’s tendency to rely on familiar tropes—particularly in its depiction of Andy’s bumbling attempts at parenting—occasionally detracts from its otherwise genuine portrayal of family life.

That said, these shortcomings are balanced by the film’s heart and humor. Keaton’s performance, coupled with Meyers-Shyer’s earnest storytelling, ensures that Goodrich remains an enjoyable, uplifting experience.

Goodrich may not reinvent the family dramedy genre, but it excels in delivering a heartfelt, entertaining exploration of redemption and familial connection. Michael Keaton’s standout performance, combined with a strong ensemble cast and Meyers-Shyer’s knack for relatable humor, makes this film a worthwhile watch. While its ambition occasionally outpaces its execution, the film’s warmth and sincerity ultimately shine through.