Love, Brooklyn (2025)

New York is one of those locales that people become so enamored with that it invariably inspires its share of cinematic love letters, odes to a metropolis known for its people, places, culture and way of life. Of course, to make those movies work, they require solid narratives and characters to drive them, with impassioned, gifted filmmakers at the helm, as seen in such works as Woody Allen’s “Manhattan” (1979) and Spike Lee’s “She’s Gotta Have It” (1986) and “Crooklyn” (1994). Without those elements, however, the love of the setting becomes lost (and, sadly, all too often, the stories associated with them as well). And, unfortunately, that’s very much the case with this debut feature from director Rachael Holder. This would-be ode to Brooklyn – one of Gotham’s most classically beautiful boroughs with a long, rich and distinctive culture of its own – seeks to symbolically explore how it has changed – drastically – in recent years, as told through the lives of three residents approaching middle age. Roger (André Holland) is a writer struggling in earnest to write his own personal love letter to Brooklyn in light of the changes that have taken place. However, he never quite seems to get on track, mainly because he’s preoccupied with sorting out his feelings about two romantic interests, his former girlfriend, Casey (Nicole Beharie), and his new prospect, Nicole (DeWanda Wise), a widowed single mother of a young daughter, Ally (Cadence Reese). These distractions essentially prompt him to place his life on hold as he steps back to assess them and what they might mean for the future. The changes in Roger’s life personally thus parallel those of the borough where he lives, and he’s torn about what once was and what now is, not to mention what might be. Regrettably, though, these story threads are woefully underdeveloped, becoming locked in a repetitive series of indecisiveness and, frankly, annoying bouts of whining and handwringing (and for all concerned, too). It’s like watching a modern-day version of "thirtysomething" playing out on screen, and the circular nature of these segments begins to feel as if the narrative has been padded to fill out its comparatively short 1:36:00 runtime. In the process, the aforementioned ode to Brooklyn itself never fully materializes, taking on an abridged tourist’s view of its locale. Instead, the picture tends to immerse itself in the shallow, self-absorbed sensibilities of the characters (none of whom are ultimately particularly pleasant, either). It’s a shame that the finished product here turns out as it does, especially since it shortchanges the considerable talents of its three principals, all of whom deserve better material to work with than what they’ve been given here. Granted, this is the filmmaker’s first feature effort, so there’s definitely a learning curve involved here, but, when it comes to choosing her next project, a good starting point is to pick a better script, as this is where much of the fault lies for this production’s shortcomings. Indeed, a love letter truly needs to feel like that’s what it genuinely aspires to be, something that will grab viewers and draw them in, keeping them engaged throughout the film in terms of the story, characters and setting. Sadly, though, “Love, Brooklyn” fails to do that, instead leaving audiences anxious for the closing credits to roll.