Eleanor the Great might not be aiming for the stars, but Scarlett Johansson’s directorial debut certainly shines with a subtle, offbeat elegance and a keen eye for character. It’s a quiet film that whispers rather than shouts, and in doing so, it reveals a beautifully nuanced world. The true standout here – literally out of this world – is June Squibb, who delivers a performance so terrific, it deserves all the praise and more. She’s completely magnetic as Eleanor, a feisty 94-year-old widow whose abrupt change of scenery sparks an unexpected journey through grief and remembrance.
The story is a nuanced exploration of a theme that resonates deeply in today’s world: grief. Eleanor, with her bull-headed walk through life, isn’t always met with warmth. In fact, her bluntness often ruffles feathers. After her roommate and best friend Bessie (Rita Zohar) passes away, she moves in with her daughter Lisa (Jessica Hecht) and grandson Max (Will Price), but her heart isn’t quite in the new routine. A chance stumble into a Holocaust survivor meeting leads her to tell a story that isn’t really her story, but her dear friend Bessie’s. It’s a move that introduces a tender new friendship with Nina (the wonderful Erin Kellyman), a college student who asks Eleanor if she could interview her for her journalism class. Eleanor is obviously reluctant, but feeling lonely, she finally acquiesces, and a friendship is born.
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Nina’s father Roger (Chiwetel Ejiofor) is also on a grief journey of his own, reeling from his wife’s recent passing and struggling to find words; words he’s been holding back for six months. This is hard for Nina, who aches to remember her with someone she was close to, but grief intervenes, and the two are left on opposite sides of an emotional silent wall; an aching thing that echoes across their interactions, perfectly embodying the pain of loss.
Kudos to first-time screenwriter Tory Kamen for crafting a script that is sharply beautiful, giving each character space to breathe and moments to truly sink into. Jessica Hecht’s portrayal of Lisa captures a complex relationship with her mother with quiet intensity, even in limited scenes. Ejiofor’s Roger embodies grief and the fear of moving forward with subtlety and grace. Much credit must be given to Rita Zohar, whose poignant and harrowing recounting of her Holocaust experiences is both powerful and heartbreaking.
But let’s be honest, this is Squibb and Kellyman’s movie through and through, and they shine so brightly, you’ll wish you could see more of them. I found myself genuinely rooting for these characters, hoping they’d find their relief and a way to move on.
I marvel at June Squibb, an actress whose career has spanned decades, with a breakout in Nebraska in 2013, and who has maintained her brilliance ever since. With over 100 credits, I genuinely hope we see 100 more.
Scarlett Johansson’s approach here – laid-back, unpretentious, and deeply touching – is a reminder that great cinema doesn’t need flash; it needs heart. This film is a gift, a quiet jewel that shines a light on Johannsson’s talent as a director. I look forward to what she does next.


