Everything’s Going to Be Great Review: A Road Trip to Nowhere in Particular

The American road trip is a myth baked into the national consciousness, a promise of reinvention somewhere between the coasts. For the Smart family, the subject of Everything’s Going to Be Great, the road is not a journey of discovery. It is a hamster wheel. Set in the waning years of the 1980s, a decade of manufactured optimism, the film places us in the cramped confines of a station wagon carrying a peripatetic theater troupe of four. This is life as a series of opening nights and hasty exits.

The engine of this chaotic existence is Buddy, the patriarch, a man whose relentless optimism is so potent it borders on a clinical condition. He is a producer of regional theater, forever chasing the next big break that will surely make his family’s fortune. His wife, Macy, serves as the family’s anchor to reality, the quiet keeper of the checkbook that reveals the true cost of her husband’s dreams.

Their two sons are a walking culture war. Young Les is a devotee of the stage, a boy who speaks in showtunes. His older brother, Derrick, wants nothing more than the simple, brutish normalcy of high school football. The family is a fragile ecosystem, bound by genuine affection but constantly strained by the centrifugal forces of their individual desires.

The Anatomy of a Dysfunctional Quartet

At the center of the storm is Buddy, and Bryan Cranston plays him as a man performing the role of The Great American Dreamer. He is all waxed mustache and grand pronouncements, a charming salesman whose primary product is himself. It is a big, theatrical performance for a big, theatrical man, but one that skillfully avoids caricature; there is a desperation just beneath the veneer of his showmanship.

Allison Janney’s Macy is his necessary counterweight. She is a study in quiet erosion, the exhaustion of being the “plus one” to a dreamer’s ambition. Her gradual turn toward religious faith is not a mere plot point but a search for a different kind of scripture when her husband’s promises have proven to be false gospels.

The sons are conceived as perfect opposites. Les is a boy who seems to have sprung fully formed from a Noël Coward play, using his encyclopedic knowledge of the stage as both shield and sword against a hostile world. In this family, it is the jock, Derrick, who is the true outsider, his desire for conformity making him an alien in a household of eccentrics.

This inversion is the film’s cleverest conceit. The four performers manage to create a believable, if fraught, family gestalt, a sense that these disparate people are truly stuck with one another, for better or worse.

A Tale of Two Tones

The film itself seems to suffer from a personality crisis as stark as the one dividing the Smart brothers. It begins as a quirky road comedy, replete with eccentricities that feel algorithmically generated for the indie film circuit.

The family practices the bagpipes on their suburban lawn, an act of sonic aggression presented as a charming quirk. They sing Gilbert and Sullivan in the car. Les has fugue states in which he receives life advice from the ghosts of Tallulah Bankhead and other deceased stage legends—a stylistic flourish that feels more like a narrative shortcut than a genuine window into his psyche.

Then, abruptly, the story takes a hard turn. A major professional gamble fails, and the family is forced to retreat to a bleak Kansas farm owned by Macy’s estranged brother. The film sheds its comedic skin and attempts to become an earnest family drama.

This pivot is jarring. The screenplay, having spent its energy on gags and affectations, seems unprepared for the dramatic weight it suddenly wishes to carry. Potent ideas about financial failure, marital strife, and homophobic bullying are introduced, only to be explored with a frustrating lack of depth, as if the film is afraid of its own serious intentions.

The Great, Unwritten Play

Everything’s Going to Be Great asks significant questions about the nature of artistic ambition and its human cost. It places the American obsession with success under a microscope. Yet, for all its intellectual posturing, the film is remarkably timid. It gestures toward profound truths but pulls back at the last moment, settling for simplistic resolutions. The characters endure hardship, but their arcs feel strangely flat, as if the experiences wash over them without leaving a permanent mark.

Within this scattered narrative, one can glimpse the ghosts of several better, more focused movies: a sharp satire on the precarity of the creative class; a poignant queer coming-of-age story set against the backdrop of the heartland; a painful drama about a marriage collapsing under the weight of one partner’s ego.

By refusing to commit, the film becomes a sketchbook of unrealized potential. Its title, in the end, is its most telling feature. It is a desperate assurance, repeated by a father and a film, that everything will work out. It is a promise that neither can keep.

The film premiered at the Tribeca Festival on June 9, 2025, and will open in U.S. theaters on June 20, 2025.

Full Credits

Director: Jon S. Baird

Writer: Steven Rogers

Producers & Executive Producers: Jillian Share, Jen Gorton, Courtney L. Cunniff, Fred Bernstein, Rick Jackson, Alex Lalonde, Bryan Unkeless

Cast: Bryan Cranston, Allison Janney, Benjamin Evan Ainsworth, Jack Champion, Simon Rex, Chris Cooper, Laura Benanti, Cady Huffman, Jessica Clement, Ian Ho, Mark Caven, Chick Reid

Director of Photography (Cinematographer): Mark Wolf

Editor: Steven Worsley

Composer: Rolfe Kent