Since this movie is called Middle Life, of which I would currently identify, I felt triggered by the simple existence of the movie. Being in the middle part of my life, being asked to review Middle Life is like living through some weird curse. I get it. I have not yet achieved all that I should have, and likely never will. The insignificance of humanity. The idea that we will go on to do far greater things than we ever actually do. For the main characters in Middle Life, Andy and Ryan, they just have to get through a movie with some heavy Christmas vibes. It’s not actually a Christmas movie, but I definitely heard plenty of Christmas songs. And even though the film didn’t have audio description, my interpretation is they at least breeze through the holiday. So it reminded me a little bit of last year’s The Baltimoreans, where the film opened outside of the actual Christmas season because now it seems it’s more important to try to get yourself onto premium video on demand or a streaming service by the holidays. It’s no longer weird to theatrically release a film where Christmas is a factor in late summer or early fall because it’ll eventually be waiting on people’s couches just in time for the holidays, when you’re vying for attention alongside the annual onslaught of Hallmark movies.
I thought this film was pretty simple, pretty basic. It feels like a movie we’ve seen a thousand times. The catch here is that the leads, Leah Fay Goldstein and Peter Dreimanis, who play Andy and Ryan, are members of the Canadian indie rock band July Talk. Interestingly, the film isn’t really about music, so they don’t really get a chance to sing or perform together. This isn’t like Once. It simply features these musicians stretching their dramatic chops on screen.
Andy is a wife and mother who witnesses a car accident involving Ryan. They’ve never met before, but she does the good Samaritan thing and jumps into action. After Ryan recovers, he feels indebted to her and wants to find a way to thank her. The two begin hanging out, and he gets to know the woman who helped him without expecting anything in return. It turns into a bit of a walk-and-talk. They even wind up at a party where they don’t know anyone, and Ryan courageously decides they should just walk in and pretend they belong there. They have a good time, but this scene is important because it establishes that Ryan and Andy are not romantically interested in each other at all. Ryan spends a good chunk of the party flirting with another woman while Andy eventually leaves on her own. The following sequence even shows Ryan with that other woman. There was never any indication that this friendship was meant to become something more.
Yet because Ryan’s persistence in maintaining a friendship with Andy is what moves the movie forward, it also becomes the thing that destroys everything in Andy’s life. Her husband, Chris, is a pathetic little man, whining about how he doesn’t get enough attention because he’s deeply insecure, even though there’s nothing but a completely platonic friendship between these two. He tries to frame it as Andy simply not being home enough, not being there for him or their child. She’s a wedding planner. She has a career. She’s trying to help pay the bills. But Chris is the kind of person who probably cries himself to sleep worrying about how fragile his existence is. I truly hated this character. I wanted him to consistently find ways to walk into oncoming traffic. Instead, he’s allowed to derail Andy’s entire life, using his insecurity to justify a separation and eventually a divorce that leaves Andy splitting custody with this sad excuse for a man. My bigger issue isn’t even Chris himself. It’s that the screenplay spends so much time proving his jealousy is unfounded, only to let his insecurity reshape everyone’s lives anyway.
Ryan reminded me a lot of Ike Barinholtz, either because of Peter Dreimanis’ performance or simply because the character feels so much like something Ike would play. It’s funny being blind because sometimes you recognize an actor through their voice before anything else. Earlier this year, while watching Night of the Seven Kingdoms, I kept referring to the lead as Chris O’Dowd because I thought he sounded exactly like him. That’s what happened here. Ryan has that same lovable doofus energy Ike Barinholtz has built a career around. He’s a guy who installs bidets for a living, isn’t exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer, but remains likable enough that you understand why Andy would enjoy spending time with him.
While the film leaves the door open to explore Ryan and Andy as something more after Chris exits the picture, this never becomes one of the great romances of our time. Honestly, it still feels more like a platonic friendship than anything else. Maybe this is just how Canadians do things. There’s so much politeness, kindness, and gratitude spread throughout the film that everyone feels warmer toward each other than they necessarily have to be. That also makes Chris stand out even more because, despite never exploding in anger, he’s still the emotional problem in the room. If this had been an American movie, I suspect Chris would’ve been screaming, punching walls, and throwing furniture around because that’s apparently how we like expressing ourselves. Canadians just politely express their disappointment and then probably go somewhere to drink maple syrup. At least that’s what I’ve heard.
Leah Fay Goldstein is fine as Andy. She comes across as a little inexperienced as an actress, but there was one scene about halfway through the movie where she really connected with me. After the divorce, while spending time with her child during shared custody, she’s singing one of those toddler songs but quietly changes the lyrics to reflect everything she’s going through. It was a genuinely sweet moment and the most authentic she felt throughout the film. Whether Leah is a mother in real life or not, I don’t know, but she certainly convinced me in that scene. I don’t think she and Ryan have much chemistry, which is another reason I wouldn’t really classify Middle Life as a romantic comedy. If anything, it’s almost the reverse, a com-rom instead of a rom-com, where the comedy comes first and any romance is simply an afterthought.
Perhaps that’s what middle life actually is. You hit a bump in the road. You’re thrown from the vehicle. Then life gives you an opportunity to figure out how you want to move forward. Andy spends most of the movie trying to make the best of a collectively unfortunate situation, and I appreciated that perspective. I think there are probably better movies exploring similar ideas, even just from this year alone, but that doesn’t mean Middle Life isn’t worth watching if it sounds like your kind of film.
It’s very pleasant. It’s nice. It’s kind. It’s quiet. It doesn’t feature people screaming at each other every five minutes. It’s unmistakably Canadian, and I appreciated it for that. There isn’t any audio description, which bothered me the most during the accident sequence because there are varying degrees of car accidents. Ryan could’ve driven directly into a tree, flipped the car down a hill, crashed into an elementary school, and caused the building to explode for all I know. Obviously that’s an absurd exaggeration, but it’s also what happens when you leave blind viewers to fill in the blanks with their imagination. Independent films like this rarely include audio description, but it’d be nice if they did.
If you’re feeling like you’re in your middle life, perhaps Middle Life is something you’ll connect with. If you’re younger, you might be looking ahead wondering, “My God, is this really what’s waiting for me?” If you’re older, you might be looking back thinking, “Those crazy kids.” Either way, Middle Life is worth a watch because these Canadians are just swell, and thankfully, so is the movie.
Fresh: 6.8/10
