Let Them All Talk

Alice Hughes (Meryl Streep) is a celebrated author—Pulitzer Prize winner, literary icon—who refuses to fly to England to accept the prestigious Footling Prize. Instead, she demands passage on the Queen Mary 2, bringing along two estranged college friends she hasn't seen in three decades: Roberta (Candice Bergen), a bra saleswoman nursing a long-held grudge, and Susan (Dianne Wiest), a parole advocate for incarcerated women. Also aboard is Alice's nephew Tyler (Lucas Hedges), serving as assistant, and secretly stowing away is Alice's new agent Karen (Gemma Chan), desperate to discover what Alice's next book is about. The stage is set for a collision between past and present, resentment and reconciliation, art and commerce.

The film showcases the exceptional performances of Streep, Bergen, and Wiest, each bringing their own strengths to the screen. Candice Bergen shines as Roberta, exhibiting sharp bitterness and delivering the film's best comedic moments. Dianne Wiest adds warmth to her role as Susan, bringing depth with her moral conviction, especially highlighted in a poignant late-film monologue. Meryl Streep plays Alice, a complex character marked by emotional withdrawal, illustrating her struggles to connect with her past. The chemistry among the three actresses enhances the film, elevating its modest narrative with authenticity and compelling character dynamics.

There is a captivating quality in observing master actors as they navigate unscripted scenarios. The film's organic, conversational flow, with scenes that meander and overlap, offers a documentary-like immediacy. The authenticity of the dialogue, particularly during intimate discussions about college sexual histories and passive-aggressive exchanges, emphasizes genuine human interactions over scripted dialogue. This aligns with the film's themes, as Alice, a writer known for her observational skills, finds herself amidst improvisational interactions, introducing a meta-textual dimension that highlights the performance of everyday life and the narratives we create to understand our choices.

The film, shot by Soderbergh under the pseudonym Peter Andrews, showcases the luxurious interiors of the Queen Mary 2, creating a stark contrast with the chaotic human interactions on board. The ship acts as a character, representing wealth and isolation, with a production design that highlights the absurdity of its endless corridors and formal dining areas. Shooting during an actual crossing adds authenticity, with fellow passengers appearing in scenes, grounding the narrative in reality. Soderbergh's static framing, often from doorways or across rooms, imparts a voyeuristic quality that aligns with the film's themes of surveillance and secrecy.

Beneath its seemingly simple exterior, the film explores significant themes including the ethics of art-making, the commodification of literature, the challenges of maintaining long-term friendships, and the isolating effects of success. The title misleads viewers to expect dialogue-driven interactions, yet characters often avoid critical conversations. The concluding twist reveals Alice's actual writing and her fate, offering profound insights into mortality and artistic legacy, ultimately providing a poignant resolution that almost compensates for the slow pacing of the narrative.

As Karen, the agent caught between professional obligation and personal affection, Chan brings a modern counterpoint to the older women's dynamics. Her scenes with Lucas Hedges have an easy, flirtatious charm, and she manages to make corporate espionage feel human. The moment when Alice discovers Karen's presence on the ship—played with Streep's characteristic mixture of wounded pride and tactical withdrawal—creates one of the film's few genuine dramatic sparks.

While the film features moments of genuine discovery, it often drags with aimless dialogue that frustrates the viewer. Conversations tend to reiterate the same points without deeper exploration. The 113-minute runtime feels extended due to minimal plot progression and a lack of structured scenes, leading to emotional tones that feel inconsistent. Key themes, like Roberta's resentment toward Alice, are established but not thoroughly developed, and Susan's work with incarcerated women is mentioned without significant integration into the narrative.

Lucas Hedges' performance as Tyler is marked by visible struggle, characterized by tics and nervous energy, which contrasts with the veteran actresses who excel in improvisation. Hedges' portrayal comes across as inauthentic and studied, as he appears to be searching for his lines. The character is underwritten, serving mainly as a plot device and lacking genuine emotional stakes, particularly in his undeveloped crush on Karen. The climax of this storytelling is exemplified in a final scene where he gazes at childhood photographs, accompanied by voiceover, highlighting the film's tendency towards overt narration.

The film struggles to define its genre, shifting between comedy, drama, and thriller without clear intent. Initial scenes appear to critique literary fame, but comedic elements and corporate intrigue create confusion. Soderbergh’s low-key direction amplifies this uncertainty, while Thomas Newman's music attempts to unify the disjointed narrative, overdramatically underscoring mundane interactions.

Despite an engaging premise of three estranged friends on a ship, the film lacks dramatic tension. Roberta's resentment towards Alice regarding personal grievances is significant but remains unaddressed, leading to passive-aggressive interactions. The eventual confrontation feels superficial and rushed. Additionally, the late revelation about Alice's writing, although clever, does not provide a satisfying emotional resolution due to the extended buildup focused on Karen's pursuit for this information.

There is a limitation in narratives focusing on wealthy individuals on luxury cruises discussing their lives. Alice's issues, such as writer's block and estranged friendships, are significant but lack urgency. Although the film hints at class issues, it fails to weave these themes into Alice's privilege. The ship becomes increasingly stifling, transforming into a gilded prison. Instead of escalating tension, the film relies on repetitive scenes—meals, games, and drinks—leading to a loss of both literal and metaphorical journey dynamics.

The film's conclusion employs an abrupt shift into melodrama that feels unearned, departing from the narrative established in the earlier scenes. While the interactions between Streep and Bergen are impactful, they seem disconnected from the film's overall structure. The twist regarding Alice's health appears to be a forced emotional device rather than a result of genuine character growth. The final shot, featuring Tyler reflecting on photographs with a voiceover, undermines the film's narrative style by opting for exposition rather than the previously demonstrated show-don't-tell approach.

Depending on their level of ambiguity tolerance and cast loyalty, audiences of this movie will be drastically divided. It provides sporadic rewards for those who enjoy watching outstanding actors just exist on film, navigating conversational seas without the safety net of scripted language. It will probably frustrate those looking for humorous reward, emotional catharsis, or narrative progression.

In the end, the movie is about the disconnect between our words and our actions, between the lies we tell and the realities we choose to ignore. The film itself, appropriately, resides in a similar liminal space—between being an intriguing experiment and a finished piece of art. It's always enjoyable to watch thanks to Soderbergh's technical prowess and the professionalism of his ensemble, but it seldom reaches the depth or urgency its premise indicates.

By the conclusion, the title has an ironic tone. Although Soderbergh has allowed them to speak, he is more concerned with the fact that they are speaking than with what they are saying. Although it's a legitimate artistic decision, the result is a movie that viewers can more easily admire than adore.

Staff:

Directed by: Steven Soderbergh

Written by: Deborah Eisenberg

Produced by: Gregory Jacobs

Starring: Meryl Streep, Candice Bergen, Gemma Chan, Lucas Hedges, and Dianne Wiest.

Cinematography: Steven Soderbergh (as Peter Andrews)

Edited by: Steven Soderbergh (as Mary Ann Bernard)

Music by: Thomas Newman

Production company: Extension 765

Distributed by: Warner Bros. Pictures

Release date: December 10, 2020

Running time: 113 minutes