Dustin Guy Defa’s film fixes its gaze on the modern ritual called “adulting,” treating it less as a milestone and more as a prolonged rehearsal. The tone oscillates between dry humor and low-grade melancholy, as if the characters are both aware of the absurdity of their situation and unable to escape it. The film studies white, suburban young adults from comfortable backgrounds, people insulated from material crisis yet unsettled by a creeping lack of direction. That focus sharpens its cultural argument. Privilege here coexists with drift.
Growing up once followed a recognizable script: education, work, marriage, family. The review frames that script as historically stable. In the present moment, those benchmarks feel less authoritative. Adulthood becomes improvisational. “The Adults” situates its characters in that ambiguity. They inherit expectations yet mistrust them. They perform maturity while privately revising its meaning.
Eric and the Ritual of Escape
Michael Cera plays Eric as a figure suspended between eras. His casual clothes, patchy beard, and unhurried demeanor suggest someone circling responsibility without landing on it. He returns to his hometown under the pretense of reconnecting with his sisters, Rachel and Maggie. The review makes clear that this explanation frays quickly. His real motive centers on reviving old poker games.
Poker functions as symbolic architecture. The table offers rules, stakes, and a measurable outcome. In a life clouded by emotional ambiguity, the game supplies clarity. Eric’s attachment to it reads as an attempt to regain control. The cards create a temporary suspension of grief, expectation, and familial tension. Winning or losing matters less than the structure itself.
His sisters provide a counterpoint. Rachel carries a sharper edge; Maggie radiates warmth. Their shared rituals reveal a childhood preserved in fragments: exaggerated voices, playful dances, private jokes. These routines operate as a coded language. They sustain intimacy. They also permit avoidance. Beneath the humor sits the shadow of their mother’s death, a shared tragedy that shapes Eric’s emotional distance. The review emphasizes how this loss lingers unspoken, inferred through pauses and subdued reactions rather than explicit confession.
The siblings retreat into performance when direct speech threatens exposure. Their childhood personas become tools. In these moments, nostalgia is functional. It stabilizes. It deflects. It allows connection without full confrontation.
Also Read
Direction, Space, and Emotional Texture
Dustin Guy Defa directs with restraint. Subtle camera shifts, ambient sound, and deliberate pauses guide the audience between tenderness and resentment. The film withholds easy exposition. Details about Eric’s life in Portland surface in fragments. The narrative expects viewers to assemble meaning from implication. That strategy generates engagement and occasional opacity.
The settings reinforce this atmosphere. Diners, bowling alleys, house parties, and a zoo ground the story in familiar Americana. Each space operates symbolically. The diner suggests routine comfort. The bowling alley evokes repetition and forward motion. The zoo recalls childhood wonder tinged with confinement. House parties stage social ritual and latent tension. These environments echo the characters’ emotional states. They feel ordinary and charged at once.
The film leans heavily on quirk. Awkward humor and eccentric behavior create texture and charm. The review acknowledges that this approach often reveals vulnerability. It also observes moments where quirk appears to substitute for deeper excavation. The balance is delicate. At times it holds. At times it wavers.
The finale attempts to fuse tearful confession with palpable awkwardness. The intention is clear: to portray flawed human communication in all its hesitations. The execution divides opinion. Certain beats land with sincerity. Others feel slightly adrift, as if the film struggles to articulate the emotional crescendo it has been building toward. The discomfort may be intentional. It also risks diffusing impact.
Adulthood as Performance
The review returns repeatedly to a central question: what does adulthood signify in a culture where inherited milestones feel unstable? Eric embodies a tension between societal imagery of success and private uncertainty. Career hints suggest competence. His emotional life suggests incompletion. The film portrays “adulting” as performance layered over unresolved youth.
There is an implicit cultural critique embedded in this portrayal. These characters do not face economic desperation. Their conflict is existential. They possess resources yet experience drift. The film proposes that maturity involves negotiating that contradiction, carrying forward fragments of childhood joy while accepting present responsibilities.
“The Adults” privileges mood over resolution. It invites reflection rather than supplying doctrine. Its strengths lie in intimate observation, in the residue of sibling rituals, and in a lead performance that communicates detachment and yearning in equal measure. Its weaknesses surface when tonal shifts blunt emotional momentum.
Still, the film lingers. It presents adulthood as an ongoing improvisation shaped by memory, grief, and habit. That portrait feels culturally attuned to a generation wary of inherited scripts yet unsure what to write in their place.
The Adults is an intimate comedy-drama that premiered at the 73rd Berlin International Film Festival before its theatrical release on August 18, 2023. The story follows Eric, played by Michael Cera, who returns to his hometown for a brief visit only to find himself lingering as he attempts to balance a strained relationship with his two sisters and a rekindled obsession with a local poker game. The film is noted for its awkward, authentic portrayal of sibling dynamics and the regression into childhood habits when family reunites. You can currently watch the film on streaming platforms like Hulu or rent it on VOD services such as Amazon Prime Video and Apple TV.
Where to Watch The Adults (2023) Online
Full Credits
Title: The Adults
Distributor: Variance Films, Universal Pictures Content Group
Release date: February 18, 2023 (Berlinale), August 18, 2023 (United States)
Rating: R
Running time: 1 hour 31 minutes
Director: Dustin Guy Defa
Writers: Dustin Guy Defa
Producers and Executive Producers: Michael Cera, Hannah Dweck, Ted Schaefer, Allison Rose Carter, Jon Read, Julia Thompson
Cast: Michael Cera, Hannah Gross, Sophia Lillis, Wavyy Jonez, Anoop Desai, Kyra Tantao, Kiah McKirnan, Simon Kim
Director of Photography (Cinematographer): Tim Curtin
Editors: Dustin Guy Defa, Michael Taylor
Composer: Alex Weston
The Review
The Adults
"The Adults" serves as a poignant reflection on modern adulthood, blending humor with heartfelt emotion. While it occasionally leans on its quirks as a narrative crutch, the film resonates with its authentic portrayal of familial bonds and the nostalgia of youth. It raises questions about societal expectations while subtly urging viewers to find their own definition of 'growing up'. An evocative journey through the complexities of contemporary maturity.
PROS
- Authentic portrayal of familial bonds and the challenges of modern adulthood.
- Successful blend of humor and emotion, resonating with many in the audience.
- Raises relevant questions about societal expectations of "growing up."
- Michael Cera's performance as Eric, capturing the nuances of a millennial grappling with maturity.
- Thoughtful exploration of nostalgia and the "lost utopia of childhood."
CONS
- Over-reliance on quirky humor, occasionally detracting from deeper narrative moments.
- Some emotional scenes, particularly in the climax, come across as awkward or unintentionally stilted.
- Limited demographic focus on white, suburban, young adults might not resonate with a broader audience.
- While the film balances charm and tension, certain moments lean too heavily into one, causing a potential imbalance in tone.
