‘Ella McCay’ review: Emma Mackey and Jamie Lee Curtis elevate disjointed James L Brooks comedy

Dir/scr: James L. Brooks. US. 2025. 115mins

How much good can one person do in the world? It’s a worthy question raised by James L. Brooks’ seventh feature, which unfortunately fails to land on a satisfying answer. Emma Mackey gives a heartfelt performance as the titular protagonist, whose marriage is collapsing just as she’s about to be named her state’s new governor, and this comedy-drama contains some of the crackling dialogue and disarming candour of Brooks’ best work. Ultimately, however, this disjointed character study ultimately feels as messy as its heroine’s life.

Proves too much of a muddle 

In the 1980s and ‘90s, Brooks’ pictures were frequently feted by Oscar voters, who gave Terms Of Endearment (1983), Broadcast News (1987) and As Good As It Gets (1997) a combined 25 nominations and seven wins, including best picture, best director and best adapted screenplay to Brooks for Terms Of Endearment. His latest, which opens December 12 in the UK and US, will probably not be as decorated, despite a cast that features Oscar winner Jamie Lee Curtis and Bafta nominee Jack Lowden. Brooks’ first film since 2010’s How Do You Know ($49 million worldwide) could prove a fetching alternative for holiday viewers seeking feel-good laughs – but middling reviews could hurt word of mouth.

Set on the East Coast in 2008, Ella McCay stars Mackey as Ella, a diligent, detail-oriented 34-year-old lieutenant governor serving under the charismatic but cynical Bill (Albert Brooks). But when Bill leaves office after being confirmed for a US cabinet position, Ella takes over the remainder of his year-plus term. This should be a dream come true for Ella, who since childhood has longed to make a difference in people’s lives. But she must contend with an obnoxious journalist who plans to run a story about her using a government apartment for afternoon quickies with her husband Ryan (Lowden). And her estranged, philandering father Eddie (Woody Harrelson) abruptly reenters her life, hoping to make amends.

Brooks has envisioned the film as a Capra-esque examination of a compassionate progressive politician who discovers how hard it is to affect change. Bill may be spineless, but he can charm voters, advising Ella that she’s too highminded and dogmatic to win over legislators or constituents. In an ideal world, Ella’s emphasis on policy and hard work would be strengths but, in modern American politics, she’s seen as a dull wonk who lacks the common touch. Once she becomes governor, though, she will need to develop her soft skills.

But Ella McCay proves too much of a muddle to thoughtfully explore an idealist grappling with personal and professional dilemmas. Her so-called sex scandal is initially amusing — she was trying to carve out quality time with her husband due to her busy schedule, not realising elected officials were not allowed to use that apartment for, shall we say, non-government work — but some later twists make that storyline terribly convoluted.

Similarly, Ella’s clash with her deadbeat father suffers from a lacklustre performance by Harrelson, the character written with sitcom broadness. Lowden’s cartoonishly self-centred husband Ryan largely serves as a narrative device to create more headaches for Ella. Plus, Ella spends time reaching out to her agoraphobic younger brother Casey, played by 2024 Screen Star Of Tomorrow Spike Fearn, who gets involved in a cutesy romantic subplot that distracts from the central story.

The writer-director’s1987 film Broadcast News deftly juggled comedy, drama, romance and a close inspection of television news. Ella McCay also mixes tones while similarly focussing on the inner workings of a sexy industry. But Brooks has scant insights into politics, coming across as naive about how governments operate. When Ella was young, a teacher told her she could be a positive influence on society but, after the film establishes the character as a dedicated public servant, Brooks too easily reduces her to a stereotypical harried woman struggling to balance work and love.

Mackey imbues Ella with intelligence and fortitude, which only makes it more implausible that this successful politician would be as embarrassingly bad at giving speeches as Ella McCay suggests. In the midst of all her drama, Ella frequently turns to her feisty Aunt Helen, who adores her like a daughter. Played showily by Curtis, Helen is the sort of quippy, straight-shooting character at which Brooks excels, and there are moments when the two women engage in the delightful, emotionally honest banter that used to pervade his pictures. But in Ella McCay, that witty repartee — and with it, that depth of feeling — only occasionally emerges.