In an era where family-centric dramedies are all too rare, writer-director Hallie Meyers-Shyer has crafted a refreshingly honest and poignant exploration of the messy realities of parenthood with her latest film, “Goodrich.”
Anchored by powerhouse performances from Michael Keaton and Mila Kunis, the film follows Andy Goodrich, a well-to-do art gallery owner whose carefully constructed life is upended when his second wife, Naomi (Laura Benanti), checks into rehab, leaving him to navigate the unfamiliar terrain of single parenthood to their two young twins.
As if that weren’t enough, Andy also has to deal with his tense relationship with Grace (Kunis), his adult daughter, who is struggling with her own impending parenthood and the hurt of her father’s past mistakes.
“We have a lot of complicated mother-daughter movies,” Meyers-Shyer explains. However, Meyers-Shyer notes that we often perceive the father-daughter relationship as a romantic, ‘daddy’s girl’ dynamic. I thought it would be interesting to show the underbelly of the relationship.
And show the underbelly—she does. Through a series of raw, emotionally charged exchanges, the film explores the lingering resentment and unresolved hurt that have defined Grace’s relationship with her father. In one particularly searing moment, she unleashes a blistering monologue that lays bare the painful truth of their dynamic: “I’m somebody that you call from the car,” she tells Andy. “I don’t even remember what you look like in pajamas.”
Kunis, known for her comedic chops, delivers a performance of remarkable depth and nuance, seamlessly transitioning between moments of sarcastic exasperation and heartbreaking vulnerability. Her Grace is a fully realized, multidimensional character, and Kunis imbues her with a gritty resilience that makes her both intensely relatable and deeply sympathetic.
For his part, Keaton brings his signature blend of befuddled charm and underlying pathos to the role of Andy, a man whose self-absorption and emotional unavailability often deride his good intentions. Whether he’s clumsily attempting to bond with his young twins or reaching out to Grace in a rare moment of genuine connection, Keaton’s performance is a masterclass in understated emotional complexity.
“I tried to capture some of his mannerisms because I wanted to subliminally let him see himself in the part,” Meyers-Shyer reveals. “I think that’s kind of cheating, but I wanted him to relate to it.”
And he does relate to it. Keaton portrays Andy as a flawed, all-too-human character, grappling with the repercussions of his past transgressions while grappling with his current struggles. As he navigates the chaos of his new reality, balancing the demands of his career, his family, and his own wounded psyche, Keaton imbues the role with a bittersweet poignancy that is impossible to ignore.
Ultimately, “Goodrich” is a film about the messy, bittersweet reality of family—the ways in which our best intentions can so often fall short—and the stubborn resilience of love even in the face of our own failings. “Goodrich” tells a tale of redemption and second chances, highlighting the wisdom gained through enduring life’s challenges.
And at its heart, it is a testament to the enduring power of the father-daughter bond, even in the face of years of hurt and disappointment. In the film’s closing moments, as Andy holds his newborn grandchild and utters the simple, powerful declaration, “You’re my soulmate,” to Grace, it’s a moment of catharsis that feels both earned and deeply moving.
“What he’s really saying to her is there’s a lot of women in the movie who come and go—wives come and go,” Meyers-Shyer explains. “She’s the one who’s there at the end.”
In an industry that often favors flashy spectacle over intimate character studies, “Goodrich” stands out as a refreshing, thought-provoking antidote. Meyers-Shyer skillfully directs the film with assurance and nuance, skillfully balancing bittersweet humor and emotional heft in her script. And with Keaton and Kunis delivering career-best performances, the film is a must-see for anyone who appreciates the power of excellent storytelling and the enduring complexities of family.
“I drew a lot on my personal life,” Meyers-Shyer admits. “I contemplated a film similar to ‘Kramer vs. Kramer,’ and considered how intriguing it would be to portray an older man, similar to my father, raising a second set of children.” Imagine how it would be to delve into the concept of parenting in the 1980s, and then again in the present day, with distinct expectations for fathers.
In the end, “Goodrich” is a film that celebrates the messy, beautiful realities of family—the laughter and the tears, the pain and the joy. It serves as a testament to the human spirit’s resilience and a poignant reminder that we can mend even the most broken bonds if we have the courage to confront our own failings and embrace the transformative power of love.