Name: Let Them All Talk
Genre: Comedy, Drama
Released: 2020-12-10T00:00:00+00:00
Cast: Meryl Streep, Lucas Hedges, Gemma Chan, Dianne Wiest, Candice Bergen

The moment Meryl Streep’s Alice Hughes deletes her manuscript in a fit of frustration, the screen flickers with the glow of a laptop as her fingers fly across the keyboard. It’s a small but telling detail—a flash of light in an otherwise dimly lit cabin aboard the Queen Mary 2. This scene, like so much of Let Them All Talk, is shot in natural light, capturing the intimate, unfiltered moments between characters who have spent years avoiding each other. Directed by Steven Soderbergh with his signature minimalist approach, the film feels like a conversation overheard rather than a story carefully crafted.

Streep’s Alice is a Pulitzer Prize-winning author, a woman whose words have shaped lives—including those of her estranged college friends Roberta (Candice Bergen) and Susan (Dianne Wiest). The trio, along with Alice’s nephew Tyler (Lucas Hedges), embark on a transatlantic crossing aboard the Queen Mary 2, a setting that becomes as much a character as any of the humans onboard. Soderbergh shot the film using little equipment and natural light, lending it an air of authenticity that grounds even the most emotionally charged scenes.

The film’s strength lies in its performances, particularly those of Streep, Wiest, and Bergen. Streep, as always, is a force of nature—her Alice is sharp-tongued, deeply introspective, and haunted by the weight of her own success. There’s a scene where Alice swims alone in the ship’s pool, the camera lingering on her solitary figure cutting through the water. It’s a quiet moment, but one that speaks volumes about her isolation. Wiest’s Susan is the quiet one, her pain simmering beneath a surface of forced cheerfulness. And Bergen’s Roberta is a delightful mix of vulnerability and bravado, her attempts to reconnect with Alice both heartbreaking and infuriating.

Hedges, too, holds his own among these titans. His Tyler is the film’s everyman, a young literary agent caught between his professional ambitions and personal loyalty to his aunt. Gemma Chan’s Karen, the publishing house representative with her own agenda, adds another layer of complexity to the dynamic. The chemistry between Hedges and Chan feels genuine, their budding romance adding a touch of levity to an otherwise heavy narrative.

But for all its strengths, Let Them All Talk stumbles in its pacing. Soderbergh’s decision to let scenes breathe often results in meandering conversations that, while naturalistic, sometimes lack the tension needed to propel the story forward. The film’s first act is particularly guilty of this, as the characters circle each other like wary cats, reluctant to engage in the very conflicts that could give their reunion meaning.

The dinner scene, however, is a standout—tensions explode into the open, with Wiest delivering a searing monologue about selfishness and bitterness that cuts through the room like a knife. It’s a moment of raw emotion that feels earned, a rare instance where the film’s dialogue-driven approach pays off in spades.

And then there’s that ending. The sudden revelation of Alice’s death from deep vein thrombosis—delivered with clinical detachment by Dr. Mitchell (John Douglas Thompson)—feels more like a narrative shortcut than an earned conclusion to her journey. It’s a bold choice, but one that undercuts the film’s otherwise meandering tone with abrupt finality. The emotional payoff is muted, leaving us with questions rather than catharsis.

Let Them All Talk is a film of moments—brilliant, bittersweet, and occasionally frustrating. It’s at its best when it leans into the messy, unresolved dynamics between its characters, but struggles when it tries to tie everything up neatly (or abruptly). Soderbergh’s direction is assured, his trust in his actors evident in every frame. But even he can’t fully overcome the film’s structural shortcomings.

This is a movie for fans of character-driven dramas, those who enjoy watching complex relationships unfold in real time. It’s not for anyone looking for a tightly plotted narrative or a satisfying resolution. The film’s themes of regret, forgiveness, and the passage of time are universal, but its execution is uneven. The improvised dialogue, while often witty and natural, occasionally feels aimless, as if the film is searching for a story rather than telling one.

Comparisons to Soderbergh’s earlier work, such as Ocean’s Eleven or Erin Brockovich, are inevitable, but Let Them All Talk lacks the tight pacing and clear narrative arc of those films. It’s more akin to his The Girlfriend Experience in its focus on intimate, character-driven storytelling, but without the same sense of urgency or stakes.

In the end, Let Them All Talk is a film that lingers in the mind long after the credits roll, not because of any grand revelations or plot twists, but because of the performances and the raw, unfiltered emotion on display.