MLWBD: Ella McCay Review
Gracie Films’ Latest Political Family Dramedy Falls Short of Its Potential
When the Gracie Films logo appears on-screen — the animated figure gesturing “ssshhh” to a cinema audience — seasoned moviegoers instinctively associate it with quality. The studio behind legendary works like Terms of Endearment, Broadcast News, and As Good as It Gets, co-founded by James L. Brooks, has long been synonymous with intelligent, character-driven storytelling. And yet, in the case of Ella McCay, Brooks’ seventh feature and first major film in 15 years, that logo feels more like a nostalgic reminder than a seal of excellence.
At the heart of this latest offering is Emma Mackey as the titular Ella McCay, a hardworking, principled politician who finds herself balancing the pressures of her career with a deeply dysfunctional family. With a cast that reads like a who’s who of contemporary comedy and drama — including Woody Harrelson, Rebecca Hall, Jack Lowden, Spike Fearn, Jamie Lee Curtis, Kumail Nanjiani, and Ayo Edebiri — Ella McCay promises a rich tapestry of political satire, family drama, and human comedy. Unfortunately, the film never quite manages to pull these threads together.
A Story of Politics, Principles, and Dysfunction
Set in the Great Recession of 2008, though stylistically reminiscent of an earlier era, Ella McCay traces the journey of its titular character as she navigates her ascendant political career while grappling with the long shadows cast by her family. Ella is an idealistic lieutenant governor, defined by her commitment to principle, policy, and public service. Yet her personal life is a minefield. Her father (Woody Harrelson), a scandalized politician, left emotional scars that still haunt her; her mother (Rebecca Hall) died untimely, leaving a void that Ella struggles to fill. Raised largely by her aunt (Jamie Lee Curtis), Ella is determined to effect meaningful change, but her ambitions continually clash with the chaotic realities of her familial relationships.
Ella’s family is a study in dysfunction. Her father, once a figure of influence, is now reduced to a shadow of his former self, fumbling through life’s trivialities. Her husband (Jack Lowden) oscillates between over-enthusiasm and ineffectiveness, while her brother (Spike Fearn) embodies anxiety and social awkwardness to an extreme degree. This ensemble, rich with talent, is tasked with creating humor, tension, and depth — often simultaneously. The film’s ambition is clear, but its execution struggles under the weight of too many competing storylines.
Emma Mackey: Anchoring a Fragmented Film
Despite the structural and tonal shortcomings, Emma Mackey emerges as a consistent highlight. Mackey’s portrayal of Ella is both grounded and compelling. She balances the gravitas required of a political protagonist with the vulnerability inherent to someone navigating a fractured family landscape. Her performance is earnest, humanizing Ella in a way that makes the audience invested, even when the script falters.
Mackey’s ability to hold scenes nearly single-handedly is impressive, especially given the density of supporting characters vying for attention. Her political idealism, tempered by real-world pragmatism, is believable, and her chemistry with other actors, particularly Lowden and Harrelson, adds emotional depth to otherwise underdeveloped subplots. For Mackey, Ella McCay is an opportunity to showcase range, and she seizes it, making her one of the few elements of the film that consistently resonates.
A Giant Ensemble Cast That Underutilizes Its Talent
Brooks’ films have historically thrived on strong ensemble casts, using character interplay to highlight both humor and pathos. Ella McCay, however, struggles to achieve this balance. Overqualified actors like Kumail Nanjiani and Ayo Edebiri are relegated to thankless, peripheral roles, their talents underutilized amid a sprawling narrative. Jamie Lee Curtis’ Aunt Helen, though memorable in flashes, appears in selective, almost token moments, delivering lines that feel more like moral aphorisms than lived experience.
The film’s narrative is dense, with numerous subplots vying for attention. Ella’s agoraphobic brother, a subplot that seems to appear and disappear at random, adds little to character development while disrupting pacing. Similarly, a scene involving a state trooper demanding overtime to fund a divorce feels tangential, adding clutter rather than narrative cohesion. For a film with so many skilled performers, these missteps leave the audience with the sense that the cast is overpopulated yet underexploited.
James L. Brooks: A Style Out of Time
Brooks’ directorial hand is unmistakable, from the bright, almost clinical lighting to the orchestrated emotional beats and overtly sentimental music, here provided by Hans Zimmer. Yet where Brooks once dazzled audiences with nuanced comedy and humanistic storytelling, Ella McCay feels like a pastiche of his previous successes.
The film is “talky” in the traditional Brooks sense, but dialogue often strays into unnatural territory. Characters deliver lines that real people likely never would, with conversations oscillating between awkward exposition and forced comedy. The heightened reality that Brooks favors in this film — whether a manic Aunt Helen or a painfully verbose state trooper — often feels disconnected from the stakes of Ella’s professional and personal life.
Moreover, Brooks’ choice to set the film in 2008 seems less about thematic necessity than a nostalgic framing device. References to the Great Recession and a bygone political climate do little to contextualize Ella’s challenges in ways that resonate with contemporary audiences. While nostalgia can be a powerful tool, here it feels like a veneer, glossing over gaps in both plot and character development.
Humor That Struggles to Land
Comedy has always been central to Brooks’ oeuvre, but in Ella McCay, humor is uneven at best. The film oscillates between slapstick, awkward situational comedy, and subtle wit, rarely committing fully to any style. Scenes intended as laugh-out-loud moments often land flatly, as if caught between parody and sincerity.
Much of the comedy derives from character quirks rather than situational cleverness, which can make moments feel contrived. For instance, interactions between Ella and her father rely on exaggerated behavioral traits rather than organic tension, leading to predictable beats. The film’s attempt at satirizing politics is similarly toothless. By setting the narrative in 2008 and largely ignoring developments in the subsequent 17 years, Ella McCay renders much of its political commentary irrelevant, diminishing the stakes for modern viewers.
Narrative Ambition Meets Structural Chaos
One of Ella McCay’s most significant challenges is its sprawling narrative structure. With multiple subplots, flashbacks, and ensemble interactions, the film often feels overstuffed yet undernourished. Certain arcs are introduced only to vanish without resolution, leaving viewers with a sense of incompleteness.
The flashbacks, narrated by Julie Kavner, serve as a framing device intended to provide context and emotional depth. While Kavner’s narration is charming, it cannot fully compensate for scenes that are structurally awkward or tonally inconsistent. The film seems caught between a desire to explore family dynamics with nuance and a compulsion to entertain with broad, comedic strokes — a tension it never fully resolves.
Supporting Cast Highlights
Despite the structural issues, several supporting performances stand out. Jack Lowden brings earnest energy to Ella’s husband, even if the character’s role is unevenly written. Woody Harrelson oscillates between pathos and comedy as Ella’s father, providing both levity and gravitas where the script permits. Jamie Lee Curtis, though limited in screen time, delivers memorable, occasionally piercing moments as Aunt Helen, providing a rare sense of narrative cohesion amidst the chaos.
Nanjiani and Edebiri, while underutilized, inject charm and wit into their scenes, hinting at the comedic potential that could have been fully realized with a tighter script. These performances suggest that the film’s shortcomings lie less with the actors and more with the choices in pacing, plotting, and tone.
Production Design and Aesthetic Choices
Aesthetically, Ella McCay is bright and polished, evoking a sense of nostalgic comfort. The lighting is crisp, almost pristine, aligning with the film’s attempt to evoke an earlier era of cinema. Zimmer’s score, while occasionally mismatched to the narrative tone, adds a layer of melodramatic flair reminiscent of classic Brooks productions.
Costumes and set design reinforce the characters’ personalities: Ella’s professional attire underscores her principled demeanor, while her family’s eclectic choices reflect their chaotic tendencies. While visually coherent, these choices cannot mask the film’s deeper narrative inconsistencies.
The Verdict
Ella McCay is an odd mixture of ambition and misjudgment. Its intentions are clear: to provide a heartfelt, humorous exploration of political idealism and familial dysfunction. Yet the execution falters under the weight of overstuffed subplots, uneven comedy, and tonal inconsistency. The film is sincere, plucky, and at times charming, but it rarely achieves the sharpness and emotional resonance that viewers expect from a James L. Brooks production.
Emma Mackey deserves particular praise for anchoring the film, delivering a performance that conveys both determination and vulnerability. Amanda supporting actors — Harrelson, Lowden, Curtis, Nanjiani, and Edebiri — offer moments of brilliance that are too often diluted by a script that cannot decide what story it wants to tell.
As an MLWBD: Ella McCay review, the conclusion is unambiguous: the film is a well-intentioned, visually pleasing, and occasionally entertaining misfire. It has moments of humor, heart, and insight, but these are overshadowed by structural and tonal weaknesses. While the Gracie Films logo may once have guaranteed excellence, in 2025 it serves more as a nostalgic echo — a reminder of the filmmaker’s legacy rather than an assurance of cinematic success.
For audiences, Ella McCay may offer fleeting entertainment, a chance to witness Emma Mackey’s compelling screen presence, and a nostalgic nod to Brooks’ earlier triumphs. But for those expecting the incisive wit, emotional depth, and cohesive storytelling historically associated with Gracie Films, the experience is likely to be frustrating, uneven, and ultimately forgettable.
Director: James L. Brooks
Cast: Emma Mackey, Woody Harrelson, Rebecca Hall, Jack Lowden, Spike Fearn, Jamie Lee Curtis, Kumail Nanjiani, Ayo Edebiri
Distributor: Gracie Films
Runtime: 2 hr. 5 min.
In Theaters: 12 December 2025