The first sound the audience hears when watching director Azazel Jacobs’ new drama His Three Daughters is the unmistakable beginning of Katie (Carrie Coon) giving a powerful, quickly-spoken monologue. “Everything’s fine,” she proclaims — as do her other two sisters at various points throughout the film — but it’s immediately clear that could not be farther from the truth.

That’s because three distant sisters (Coon, Elizabeth Olsen, and Natasha Lyonne) are reunited to watch over their dying father, Vincent (Jay O. Sanders). They know his time has come: a reality they never deny or try to dismiss. Being together over the course of a distraught few days presents the possibility of reconnecting despite their differences. However, closing the invisible but always-felt space and history between them proves to be more difficult than anyone imagined.

Until this point, Jacobs’ career has been comprised of fairly mid-budget, lukewarm dramas like French Exit (2020) and The Lovers (2017). When watching the excellently acted and directed chamber drama His Three Daughters, it’s clear he’s never been more on top of his form. If there’s any movie that we will remember him for, it’s this one.

The acting from the entire cast drives the emotions home in a way that sneaks up on the viewer by the end. The three lead performances given by Coon, Olsen, and Lyonne are some of the best of each actor’s career. Coon brilliantly establishes the way Katie sees herself as the head of the family, confidently putting herself first and, as a result, failing to see where her sisters need her the most. Olsen is also great as Christina, a mother who cares deeply for the people around her, even when she doesn’t see where she’s overstepping.

And then there’s the highlight of the entire film, which is Lyonne’s terrifically restrained, darkly funny, and heartbreaking turn as Rachel. While her sisters subtly (and sometimes not so subtly) scold her, thinking she’s not doing enough for their father, Jacobs’ empathetic screenplay centers her perspective even when Rachel doesn’t speak up for herself. How the three siblings interact says so much about their current relationship, what transpired in the past, and how they can begin thinking about finding closure.

Aside from the three central performances, it’s also difficult to walk away from His Three Daughters without considering Sanders’ brief but resounding turn as Vincent. Even with his limited screen time, Sanders brings emotional vulnerability to the film’s most heart-wrenching scene. Jacobs wisely chooses to keep the audience from the actual room where Vincent is being treated, right alongside Rachel not wanting to go in until the time is right.

While it’s easy to recognize the talent of the actors and the writing that’s equal parts tragic and hysterical, Sam Levy’s nostalgic and gentle cinematography is the final piece that makes up this tragedy. The film carries a play-like quality where long conversations carry the narrative flow, but the strategic blocking of the actors creates a vibrant cinematic language.

When nightfall sets for the first time, the entire apartment has an orange tint as the sun sets, spilling into the separate rooms: an evocative filmmaking choice that sets the tone for everything that comes next. In contrast, the New York City buildings and skyscrapers look green, a sign of envy at a life just beyond the horizon. Even a shot as simple as an empty couch, once full of life and community, speaks so much to the film’s themes of loss and life regrets.

The sound design may be the easiest element to overlook. The constant, never-ending sound of Vincent’s heart monitor resonates throughout the apartment, creating an anxious sense of urgency. Jacobs never calls explicit attention to it, which makes everything feel so real. It’s there, always there, even as it blurs into background noise.

In essence, that’s what His Three Daughters is all about: allowing the audience into this tense space without any form of emotional manipulation or judgment passed toward the characters. In watching this genuine, heartfelt story unfold, Jacobs encourages us to harness the memories of loved ones, no matter how painful it may be to look back. There’s always joy, perhaps even laughter, to be found in life’s most devastating moments.

Review Courtesy of Matt Minton

Feature Image credit to IMDb