Despite the film’s visual and auditory appeal, its storytelling struggles to achieve the same level of intimacy. The narrative’s close-up approach paradoxically leaves the audience distanced from the characters’ motivations, making it challenging to fully invest in their plights. A pivotal scene, an argument between Noah and Rebecca at the kitchen table sparked by a cut on Maya’s finger, exemplifies this disconnect. While Pine and Slate deliver convincing performances and the dialogue rings true to life, viewers remain at arm’s length from the characters. The ambiguity surrounding Noah’s reaction—whether it’s an overreaction or a justified response—highlights this gap. If the latter is true, the film’s resolution of Maya’s issues feels like an inadequate and irresponsible conclusion.

Chris Pine stars as Noah, a divorced and depressed doctor mourning his father while trying to care for his daughter Maya (Abby Ryder Fortson, the breakout discovery of “Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret”), who has some some sort of serious anxiety issues. Jenny Slate plays Rebecca, who worked in politics in Washington, D.C. but has returned to her hometown in Ohio where she becomes Maya’s debate team coach. Noah and Rebecca dated when they were younger, before she moved out of town and he got married — and now that she’s back and he’s unmarried, they’re drawn to each other again, even as they continue to argue about why they shouldn’t be.

“Carousel” is an aesthetically pleasing film. Cinematographer Justin Lane shot the movie on 35mm film rather than the digital cameras used for most indies. A deliberate choice was made to leave scratches visible in the 35mm film’s digital transfer, and the framing of shots within the unusual 3:2 aspect ratio is often deliberately imperfect, off from expectations yet appropriate for an intimate perspective. The colors are warm and there’s an overall earthiness to the look of the movie. The brass-heavy soundtrack, combining original tracks from composer Dabney Morris with classic jazz compositions from the likes of Chet Baker, adds to a general feeling of warmth.

The storytelling attempts a similar level of close-up intimacy in individual moments, but paradoxically, being so close up to the drama makes it harder to fully understand where everyone’s coming from and thus harder to fully care and invest in it. The big dramatic centerpiece of the film is a kitchen table argument between Noah and Rebecca, initially triggered by Noah noticing a cut on Maya’s finger. The dialogue all sounds like a real fight, and Chris Pine and Jenny Slate’s performances are convincing, but even after having spent an hour with the characters at this point, it still feels like the audience is on the outside looking in. Is Noah supposed to be overreacting to the inciting incident, or given the context of what we know about his daughter, is his reaction reasonable? I’m inclined toward the latter, but if so, then the way the movie decides to resolve Maya’s problems is an extremely irresponsible under-reaction.

Sundance’s website has “Carousel” tagged as a “comedy,” but hardly anything in the movie seemed particularly funny, leaving me unsure if this is a case of false advertising or just a serious failure to reach its intended genre goals. Slate, who’s known primarily for comedy, is in serious acting mode, and while it’s impressive to see her broader range, it’s a bit of a letdown she gets only a laugh-out-loud moment here. Pine, who can be quite funny himself in movies like “Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves,” has one scene late in the film that stands out as “funny” in a weirder sense: a montage of interactions at airport bars. The strange diversion reveals a different side to his character and does contain probably the single most quotable line in the movie, but it’s sure to leave a good portion of the audience in a state of confusion.

“Carousel” is pulled in a number of directions: as a romance, as a story of grief, as an exploration of mental health struggles. We haven’t even gotten into the various side characters who drift in and out, such as Noah’s fellow doctor (Sam Waterston) who might have a thing with Noah’s mom (Katey Sagal). The romance is the closest thing it has to a solid narrative core, and yet despite the best efforts of Chris Pine and Jenny Slate as actors and some on-screen chemistry between the two of them, I still struggled to find myself caring that much about their relationship.

It felt like the film was prioritizing the texture of their characters as a couple with a turbulent history over actually informing us of that history. I understand a resistance to oversharing, but under-sharing is just bad for drama. We see how Noah and Rebecca are drawn toward and away from each other. I almost wonder if the romantic storyline might have played stronger with a different “Chris” in the lead role. While Pine might be the most mature actor of the four big Hollywood Chrises, remember that Chris Evans is actually Jenny Slate’s ex, so maybe their history together could have been the extra spark to overcome the distancing factor of an underwritten script. Or maybe the film was doomed to be kind of a bore no matter who was in it.

The final shot of “Carousel,” a long gradual zoom in on Pine and Slate, is accompanied by the sound of a heartbeat. It’s supposed to feel intimate, and perhaps a way for the medically-minded yet emotionally-stunted Noah to connect with his feelings. And as much as it could bring us in, it ends up feeling clinical and distant.

“Carousel” premiered at the 2026 Sundance Film Festival. Further release plans have yet to be announced.