“Carousel”

I had a hard time getting past the main problem with writer and director Rachel Lambert’s “Carousel,” which is a serious miscasting of its leads. It’s not that Chris Pine and Jenny Slate aren’t talented and accomplished actors, it’s that they just don’t quite fit the characters they’re portraying here. It took me a while to settle in with this quiet, grown-up relationship drama, and I eventually realized that the awkwardness of it all may just be the whole point.

Divorced doctor Noah (Pine) lives a life that’s orderly and slightly lonely. He builds his time around caring for his anxious daughter (Abby Ryder Fortson) and working hard to keep his family medical practice running. It’s a grind that’s certainly not glamorous or exciting, but it’s a steady way to live. That equilibrium gets shaken when Noah’s high school girlfriend (and source of his first great heartbreak) Rebecca (Slate) unexpectedly returns to town. They’re older now and filled with different disappointments, but the pull between them is still there. This leads the pair to question if they want to give their love story another try.

Lambert tells this story in a gentle, winsome tone that feels very intentional. Nothing here is rushed or overstated. The film is small, patient, and deeply interested in emotional honesty rather than dramatic fireworks. Lambert has a sharp eye for the quiet truths of relationships, like the idea that to love is also to lose, and that growing older doesn’t necessarily mean growing up. There’s some genuinely insightful writing about loneliness, regret, and the strange comfort of reconnecting with someone who knew you before life complicated everything.

The performances are strong despite the actors being miscast. There’s something about Pine’s presence that doesn’t fully click with Noah’s inward, worn-down energy. Slate brings a generous emotional intelligence to Rebecca, yet the chemistry between the two never quite ignites. It’s hard to fully buy this as a once-in-a-lifetime love story, no matter how hard the film wants you to.

It’s the beautifully expressed and eloquently written dialogue the does the majority of the heavy lifting. It’s honest, delicate, and intimate in a way that makes the characters feel lived-in rather than figments of a screenwriter’s imagination. This isn’t a romantic fantasy, but a down to Earth story about two people who’ve lived full and separate lives before coming back together knowing exactly who they are (and what loving each other might cost).

“Carousel” moves slowly (almost too slowly), but it’s purposeful. This is a modest, small drama that gives a thoughtful and realistic portrait of connection and loneliness.

By: Louisa Moore