Goodrich Review: A Feel-Good Journey of Self-Discovery

Hallie Meyers-Shyer’s Goodrich explores the life of Andy Goodrich, an art gallery owner near the end of his career suddenly faced with new responsibilities. Played masterfully by the versatile Michael Keaton, Andy finds his world turned upside down one night with an unexpected phone call from his wife Naomi.

She reveals that without Andy even realizing it, she has been battling an addiction and has now checked into a rehab facility. On top of this, Naomi informs Andy that their marriage is over too.

This leaves Andy as the temporary single parent to their two young twins, nine-year-old Mose and Billie. Navigating life as a father was never Andy’s strong suit, having always focused more on his gallery. But with Naomi away, he has no choice but to step up.

At the same time, problems are mounting for Andy’s struggling business. Between caring for the kids and trying to save the gallery, Andy will confront parts of himself he avoided for too long.

Through it all, Michael Keaton brings Andy to life in a profoundly human performance. We see a man trying his best but still making many mistakes, motivated by good intentions yet lacking true self-awareness until now. As Andy adapts to these sudden changes, Keaton subtly depicts the self-examination and growth within. Goodrich proves a unique and empathetic look at fathers, families, and the journeys we all take towards understanding ourselves and each other more deeply.

Getting to Know Andy

We meet Andy Goodrich at a crossroads in his life. An aging art dealer approaching his seventh decade, Andy finds himself suddenly thrown far from his comfort zone. As the film introduces him, Andy is clearly accustomed to a certain lifestyle. Despite owning a prestigious Los Angeles gallery, he seems distant from the realities of raising young children as a father in his second marriage.

Andy’s self-absorbed nature is on full display in the opening scene. To his shock, wife Naomi abruptly leaves him, checking into rehab while simultaneously filing for divorce. Yet Michael Keaton’s genius is showing us the man beneath Andy’s flawed actions. His bewilderment in this pivotal moment feels genuine, revealing a man not used to facing harsh truths.

From here, Goodrich delves into Andy as an individual—warts and all. He loves his family but expresses it poorly, forgetting allergies or mixing up his daughter’s names. We root for him not because the film makes him flawless, but because Keaton ensures we see the humanity within. His subtle performance captures Andy’s fumbled attempts to do better, to finally engage where he withdrew before.

Importantly, the movie avoids labeling Andy simply as a villain or hero. Life is messy, and people complex. Through it all, Keaton conveys a sincere soul, beginning a long, overdue journey of self-reflection. We watch Andy grow awkwardly through heartfelt scenes, quietly learning how to be present emotionally as well as physically.

By peeling back layers of a character we often encounter in life, Goodrich offers an insightful perspective. Many of us have likely hurt others through self-absorption or actions, even with good intentions. But growth is possible if we have the courage to face hard truths, as Andy does late in his story, but not too late to still make a difference through love.

Repairing Relationships

Grace has experienced her share of heartache from Andy over the years. As his daughter from a previous marriage, she often felt sidelined while he focused on newer parts of his life. Now with her own family on the way, Grace watches as the father she yearned for starts to emerge—but with her younger siblings, not her.

In subtle yet impactful performances, Mila Kunis conveys Grace’s tightrope between resentment and hope. We see the disappointment lurking under polite smiles and understand her unresolved feelings. Yet when Andy reaches out, traces of the bond remain despite the damage already done. Their story touches on the complexities of familial love across generations.

Living alone with the twins presents its own challenges but also opportunities for Andy. Michael Keaton shines in lighter moments as an overwhelmed new parent, fumbling but trying hard. The kids respond to his genuine, if fumbling, efforts, welcoming the dad who stayed missing far too long. Belatedly but sincerely, Andy commits to being present—physically and emotionally—in a way the film suggests may not have come without this abrupt change.

Goodrich handles these delicate dynamics with care. It wisely avoids easy redemption for Andy or punishment of Grace. Instead, their slowly evolving relationship feels thoughtful and honest, mirroring the messiness of real family dynamics. Both characters stay complex, neither fully healed but gradually repairing lifelong wounds through open-hearted conversation. The film leaves space for their journey to continue in a way honorable to both.

Colorful Companions

Pete proves a pleasant surprise. The father of a boy in Andy’s twins’ class, Pete, connects with Andy through shared school duties. Michael Urie brings levity as the upbeat gay dad, playfully bantering with Keaton in refreshing rapport. Their bond gives Andy perspective while granting humor through eyes new to fatherhood’s toils.

Lola injects intrigue as a reclusive artist’s daughter. When Andy pitches, representing her late mother’s works, Carmen Ejogo’s Lola radiates mystique through hushed affliction. Her rejection of commodifying grief feels authentic, avoiding stereotypes through complexity.

Elsewhere, familiar faces surface. Andie MacDowell breathes warmth as Annie, Andy’s first love, is present through their grown daughter Grace. Supporting players mesh naturally, like fish in a pond ecosystem, each offering ripples influencing Andy’s evolution, whether major or minor.

Cumulatively, these vivid presences craft a living tapestry. Beyond stock figures, they live and interact organically, cushioning Andy’s journey versus propelling plot. Goodrich thrives not upon story beats alone but on its colorful, honest humanity—a subtle strength reflecting director Meyers-Shyer’s finely-honed skills.

Journeys of the Heart

Goodrich explores profound themes of personal growth and repairing relationships. At its core lies a man awakening to the impacts of his past choices and seeking ways to do better going forward.

Andy spent decades avoiding deeper connections, prioritizing work over family. Now forced to reckon with those sins of omission, he slowly learns what truly matters. Through stumbles and heartfelt bonding moments alike, Andy discovers the wanting heart within his children and is gifted a chance to satisfy needs long ignored.

Meyers-Shyer touches on universal struggles. Families evolve in ways leaving others feeling left behind, while we usually remain blind to the aftershocks of our detachment until too late. And redemption often comes through humble acts of sincere, present love rather than grand gestures.

Connections prove complicated across generations and marriages. Yet Goodrich affirms redemption is possible even for those whose mistakes cut deep if we embrace difficult lessons with brave, beating hearts. Its stories show family as a web strengthening when we support each other through life’s changes, not stubbornly resist what we cannot control.

Ultimately, Goodrich celebrates love’s power to ease past pains and form new joy if we open ourselves to growth’s persistent call even in life’s later chapters. Some missed their moment to be father, but none need lose the ability to nurture new understanding wherever opportunity gently knocks.

Bringing Goodrich to Life

The cast and crew of Goodrich accomplish something quite special: crafting an immersive world that feels genuine despite its polished sheen. Jamie Ramsay’s cinematography brings tactile warmth, whether quiet moments at home or bustling city streets. Lush colors enhance comfortable production design.

Christopher Willis’ emotive score sweeps us along like a warm blanket. Melodies rise and fall with the movie’s relaxed rhythm instead of forcing pathos. Subtly, music enhances performances at the film’s heart.

Keaton and the young actors are profoundly talented. Vivien Lyra Blair steals scenes as the spunky yet wise Billy. You believe these characters’ journeys because of lived-in nuance, even from child performers. Director Hallie Meyers-Shyer coaxes vulnerability that resonates.

Admittedly, montage sequences feel disjointed, yet visuals overall soothe. Occasional contrivance is forgivable beside earnest humanity. Hallie elevates material through respecting complex realness within flawed people. Together, crew craft moving intimacy.

While not groundbreaking, Goodrich succeeds through emotional authenticity. Craft elevates family’s story of healing past harms. Production smoothes over minor flaws so the audience embraces characters’ journeys wholeheartedly.

Finding the Beauty in Imperfection

Despite following familiar dramatic beats, Goodrich offers comfort through its empathetic spirit. Hallie Meyers-Shyer explores weighty themes of family, love, and acceptance with empathy. Keaton imbues Andy with sincerity, rising above tropes to portray growth with subtle grace.

Of course, predictable moments and overt sentiment don’t quite stick the landing. Threadbare subplots feel undercooked, and montages stretch logic. Yet Keaton’s immense gifts, paired with young actors’ raw talents, overlook flaws by immersing us in relationships nuanced and real.

Goodrich understands life lacks neat resolutions and people complex. Its gift lies not in how plots twist but in how it gently mirrors reconciliation’s messy work—the unlearning of stubborn ways, opening closed hands to embrace new understanding. Films so rarely capture life’s bittersweet beauty found within imperfection’s seams. In this, Goodrich warms the heart and lights the way.