Directing: B
Acting: B+
Writing: B
Cinematography: B-
Editing: B+

Carrie Coon, Natasha Lyonne, and Elizabeth Olsen are all well established as singular performers, and all of their talents are very much on display in His Three Daughters, mostly a three-hander about estranged sisters reconvening to say goodbye to their father in hospice care. There’s something just slightly off about the presentation in this film, though, written and directed by Azazel Jacobs. There are so many extended monologues, where a character is ostensibly speaking to another person but after a while is functionally talking to themselves, it has the striking feeling of watching a filmed play. I found myself wondering if, indeed, this movie would actually play better as a stage production. It would be easy enough to produce, the entire story set in one New York City apartment.

Jacobs previously directed (but did not write) the 2021 film French Exit, which was absolutely not for everyone but which I was deeply delighted by. I still think it’s criminal that movie could never gain a genuine cult following the way oddball movies used to be able to. That film took a wild turn into the fantastical, whereas His Three Daughters is much more straightforward and sentimental. It’s immediately clear that this is a family drama, dealing with sibling rivalries and grief.

The sisters are Katie (Coon), Rachel (Lyonne), and Christina (Olsen). They were all raised by a father who remains unseen in a back bedroom until the very end of the film, but soon enough we learn that Rachel had a different mother who died when she was very young, and a different biological father but this one raised her as his own. The mother of the other two also died while they were young, a point of commonality that becomes a part of both their tensions and their connection. Rachel, a stoner who spends a lot of time in her bedroom tracking sports she has bets riding on, has kind of checked out while her two sisters have descended on the apartment—Katie from just another New York City borough, and Christina from thousands of miles away. Katie takes it upon herself to take control and is quick to judge, and Christina is sort of hippie-adjacent, spending the most time in the room with their dad, singing possibly Grateful Dead songs to him and doing yoga during her breaks.

These women have clearly distinct and well-drawn personalities, and it’s easy to believe them as sisters. Still, there’s a slight sort of detachment to the dialogue—and the rather striking number of extended monologues. The film opens with Carrie Coon delivering a monologue as Katie, nothing but a white wall of what we only later realize is this apartment as the background. It feels rather like a self-taped audition and doesn’t doe the film any favors in setting the tone. After several minutes, the camera cuts to Lyonne as Rachel, listening to her in resigned silence. Rachel is the quietest one for a while, but soon enough all three of them are talking plenty. His Three Sisters is mercifully short on histrionics, which makes the one genuine screaming match between the three of them all the more effective.

As the story unfolded, I felt more connected to all three of these women, the excess of monologues notwithstanding. In the end, this story of forging connection through shared grief left me genuinely moved. There is a turn at the end, when Vincent, their dad (Jay O. Sanders), suddenly comes out of his room and even gets his own monologue. For several minutes, this genuinely threw me for a loop. The monologue ends with a gentle reveal that made me feel a little better about it, even though the sudden shift of perspective to a character we didn’t even meet until this point is a bit jarring.

His Three Daughters is a Netflix movie that will get a brief release in select theaters on September 6, then will be available on the streamer September 20. These three actresses are always worth watching, and this film is thus as good a way to kill 101 minutes as any. I’m not sure there’s any real necessity for theatrical release with this one, though. This is exactly the kind of movie that’s perfect for watching at home, with some tissues handy.

*Let’s work through their shit together.*

Overall: B