‘Carousel’ review: Chris Pine and Jenny Slate rekindle a lost love in endearing relationship drama

Dir/scr: Rachel Lambert. US. 2026. 103mins

Characters longing for connection but simultaneously fearing it provides a strong framework on which Rachel Lambert builds an unpredictable relationship drama that feels both profound and fragile. With a measured pace and elliptical style, it occasionally loses momentum – but Chris Pine and Jenny Slate are compelling as the will they/won’t they couple at its heart, thanks to careful scripting that gives them space to deliver between the lines.

A measured pace and elliptical style

Lambert steps up to Sundance’s Premieres section with her latest feature following Sometimes I Think About Dying, which played in the US Dramatic Competition in 2023. Although sharing some DNA with that previous film, Carousel is more mainstream and complex, and likely to find firmest footing with distributors seeking films for mature audiences.

Pine gets a welcome chance to flex his dramatic pecs as Noah, a family doctor and fairly recent divorcee living where he grew up on the outskirts of Cleveland. Following the split, his teenage daughter Maya (Abby Ryder Fortson) is anxious and prone to explosive meltdowns. Rebecca (Jenny Slate) also used to live in town and moved away to further her career, but is back to help her parents sell their home. She also happens to be a very old flame of Noah’s and, when he spots her around town, the spark is still there. The scene in which the pair of them rediscover their chemistry is beautifully worked as they talk around the edges of their split with a humour that hides something more heartfelt beneath. 

Lambert constructs her film around the very different energies Pine and Slater bring to their roles, with Noah initially seeming the more relaxed of the two and Rebecca a bundle of anxieties – though Carousel goes on to highlight that nobody is a vessel for just a single emotion. As a writer Lambert is more interested in the loose ends of life than the things that tie up in a neat bow. As a result, she allows the flotsam and jetsam of the characters’ experiences to float around them, occasionally bobbing in and out of view but not necessarily fully explained. We learn, for example, that Noah’s father is dead and it has left him reeling, but not how or when. Lambert also populates the outer edges of her film with interesting characters, including Sam Waterson as Noah’s emotionally sensitive soon-to-retire GP practice partner.

More often than not Lambert’s withholding of information works, as it’s more authentic for these characters not to talk about every last thing. Now and again, however, it’s as though she can’t quite work out how to fit things in, as when a friend of Rebecca’s fills in some backstory in a single scene and then disappears without trace.

Cinematography from Dustin Lane artfully underlines the idea of tricky relationships. The 3:2 aspect ratio adds intimacy and the characters are often placed where you wouldn’t expect in the frame.. Lambert also tunes us into Noah’s wavelength by aking sure his reaction takes centrestage in particular scenes. The director, who shot the film in her hometown and used her house as one of the sets, is also bold in her approach to time, so that we are sometimes offered fresh perspectives.