Winter Spring Summer or Fall – Film Review

Tiffany Paulsen’s Winter Spring Summer or Fall has all the ingredients for a memorable coming-of-age romantic drama: a meet-cute steeped in indie charm, charismatic leads in Jenna Ortega and Percy Hynes White, and a structure built around the symbolic passage of seasons. Yet, despite its warm intentions and occasional sparks of genuine emotion, the film often feels like a collage of better romances, lacking the narrative depth and emotional resonance it clearly aspires to achieve.

The story follows Remi Aguilar (Ortega), a driven high school senior aiming for Harvard, and Barnes Hawthorne (White), a free-spirited slacker planning a gap year with no real direction. They first meet on a train heading to New York City, bonding over The Talking Heads and youthful uncertainty. Their connection is immediate but complicated: Remi, ever focused on her ambitions, initially resists Barnes’ easygoing, chaotic energy, while Barnes finds himself drawn to Remi’s fierce determination. The seasons pass, and so too does their relationship evolve — through tentative flirtations, moments of rebellion, misunderstandings, heartbreak, and the lingering question of whether timing can ever be right for young love.

The strongest asset Winter Spring Summer or Fall has is the natural chemistry between Ortega and White. Jenna Ortega, already well-versed in portraying layered, guarded characters, brings a groundedness to Remi that makes her ambitions feel tangible without veering into caricature. White, meanwhile, embodies Barnes with a shambling, awkward charm that fits the archetype of the soulful drifter. Together, they create a believable tension — a relationship built as much on what’s left unsaid as what is overtly shared.

Paulsen’s direction leans heavily into nostalgic visual language: dreamy golden-hour lighting, intimate handheld camera work, and a warm, indie-pop soundtrack that underscores every emotional beat. At times, this aesthetic threatens to overtake the film, creating a version of teenage romance that’s a little too glossy, a little too detached from messy reality. In attempting to bottle the magic of fleeting youth, Winter Spring Summer or Fall sometimes feels more like a scrapbook than a lived-in story.

Dan Schoffer’s screenplay is earnest but uneven. Some scenes, particularly the smaller moments of connection between Remi and Barnes — a conversation about futures that may never intersect, for example — ring authentically true. Others feel overly constructed, relying on clichés that more seasoned romantic dramas have long since transcended. The prom sequence, for instance, has charm but also leans on predictable tropes of miscommunication and last-minute realizations that lack the emotional heft needed to fully land.

The film’s structure, framing each chapter around a different season, is a clever device but ultimately underutilized. While winter and spring set up a promising emotional arc, summer and fall feel rushed and fragmented, as if the filmmakers were more eager to reach a cathartic ending than to earn it. A pivotal argument scene, meant to signal a major turning point, feels more like a script obligation than an organic outgrowth of their relationship. Similarly, another scene in the film — though sweet — feels hurried, undercutting the emotional complexity that had been tentatively established earlier.

The supporting cast delivers solid, if mostly functional, performances. Marisol Nichols and Adam Rodriguez as Remi’s concerned but controlling parents add necessary conflict, though their characters are painted with broad strokes. Elias Kacavas brings a lively presence as PJ, Barnes’ affable friend, offering much-needed moments of levity and grounding. However, none of the secondary characters are given enough depth to feel like more than props in Remi and Barnes’ coming-of-age journey.

A notable strength is how the film addresses ambition versus aimlessness. Remi’s laser focus on success contrasts sharply with Barnes’ drifting spirit, and the film wisely avoids villainizing either path. There’s an underlying acknowledgment that both characters have valid fears and desires — Remi’s terror of wasted potential and Barnes’ fear of being trapped in a life without passion. Had the film leaned harder into this thematic tension, it might have achieved a more profound resonance instead of coasting on aesthetic charm.

Another missed opportunity lies in the film’s depiction of consequence. Barnes and Remi both make reckless decisions but the film rarely sits with the gravity of those choices. Everything is wrapped up neatly and quickly, which lessens the emotional impact and robs the story of the bittersweet tone it occasionally hints at achieving.

Ultimately, Winter Spring Summer or Fall is a film that feels deeply familiar — sometimes comfortingly so, sometimes frustratingly. It’s a cinematic mood board of young love, rebellion, and the fear of growing up, but it never digs deep enough to distinguish itself from its influences. Viewers looking for a gentle, surface-level romance to bask in for a couple of hours will find it appealing. Those seeking something more substantial, more aching and true to the turbulence of youth, may leave feeling a little underwhelmed.

Still, there’s undeniable potential here. Ortega continues to prove she’s one of the most magnetic young actors working today, capable of elevating even uneven material with her raw authenticity. And Paulsen shows promise as a director attuned to the emotional textures of youth — even if her debut effort occasionally loses its way in pursuit of aesthetic over substance.

In the end, Winter Spring Summer or Fall is a tender, imperfect portrait of first love and missed chances, one that flickers with real emotion but too often settles for safe, familiar beats rather than daring to explore something deeper.