Despite being set in 2008, Ella McCay feels like it’s of a different era—it could easily have been made in the early 1990s. It just looks older than it actually is. And perhaps that’s the point considering the film’s characters, led by Sex Education’s Emma Mackey in the titular role, speak in a way that no contemporary characters—or real people—do. It’s almost too idealistic in parts and unabashedly saccharine in others. It might have left me on the fence about its quality, but it at least delivered a sense of warmth that remains a rarity these days.
The film follows Ella, a lieutenant governor of an unnamed state. She’s a hard worker, has great ideas, but is constantly in a state of stress about one thing or another. That stress and anxiety largely stems from her strained relationship with her father, Eddie (Woody Harrelson), a serial cheater from whom she’s been estranged for 13 years, as well as a situation at work—involving her husband Ryan (Jack Lowden), a government office, and a reporter—that threatens her entire career once she becomes governor.
There’s also Ella’s relationships with her brother, Casey (Spike Fern), who’s become a bit of a hermit after breaking up with his girlfriend, Susan (a delightful Ayo Edebiri), her mentor, Governor Bill (Albert Brooks), and her loving and supportive aunt Helen (Jamie Lee Curtis). Ella manages her time between them all, moving from one nearly catastrophic or chaotic moment to another. You may be tempted to ask, “How does she do it?” But Ella isn’t unaffected by what’s going on around her, nor is she written as being infallible. She’s simply trying to get through it without shouting her lungs out of her chest. (And yes, she does eventually do this.)

While Ella McCay has its shortcomings, it’s hard to loathe it entirely considering how earnest it is. Its heart is in the right place, even when certain elements don’t work, or some of the dialogue comes off as corny instead of heartfelt. Writer-director James L. Brooks (Broadcast News, As Good as It Gets) propels the story forward with energetic character interactions and conversations, which range from ardent to grating. There are moments, like when Ella tells her security detail Nash (Kumail Nanjiani in a largely thankless role) that she can’t hear him from the backseat of the car, that are surely meant to be endearing—and maybe even quirky—but might get on your nerves instead.
The film seems caught between the past and present, and unclear which way it wants to lean. Brooks marries For some reason, Julie Kavner, who plays Ella’s secretary Estelle, narrates the film, providing us with unnecessary details about Ella’s tumultuous family dynamic and relationship with her father. She even narrates Ella’s current events, which becomes superfluous, actively working against the film’s flow. Ella McCay is also too long for its own good. I looked at my watch a couple of times, a sign that a movie is dragging enough to lose our attention, even if only for a few minutes.
And yet, the film has such a sincere tone that it turns into a digestible watch, almost against your will. This will not be a movie I revisit—nor can I wholeheartedly recommend it—but Brooks and his cast do something that is hard to come by, creating a middle-of-the-road movie that will either make your eyes roll or your heart melt. Ella’s sensible political policies run counter to the system that essentially sets her up for failure, but my goodness, does she try her best to help and do the right thing, even when it seems almost everyone is rooting against her. It’s this sense of idealism, this hope for better despite having to wade through a pile of utter crap, that turns Ella McCay into a bizarrely fascinating, wholesome viewing experience.
Rating: C-
Level of Enthusiasm: 55%
