OVERVIEW
In one of the most Sundance-y films of the 2026 edition, See You When I See You has Jay Duplass back in Park City with a personal, talky indie dramedy.
The film follows Aaron Whistler (Cooper Raiff), a comedy writer left emotionally frozen after the suicide of his sister, Leah (Kaitlyn Dever). As his parents and older sister cope in their own messy ways, Aaron begins PTSD treatment, including EMDR, and slowly faces the memories he has been avoiding, and the damage that avoidance has been doing to his life.
BACKGROUND
Fresh off The Baltimorons, Duplass continues his return to feature directing with a less typical step: directing a story he did not originate. The script, written by Adam Cayton-Holland and adapted from his memoir, is one Duplass has said he felt deeply connected to. He approached the material as a “funny” Ordinary People, using an ensemble while merging grief and laughter.
EXECUTION
Jay Duplass keeps See You When I See You intimate and honest, yet easy to sit with. Even as it deals with depression, it is a film that rarely turns bleak, thanks to a gently upbeat piano score that keeps the mood afloat and to jokes that serve as a counterweight when scenes get heavy.
Aaron reads like someone who has built his whole personality around being “the funny one,” and the film uses that to make his breakdown feel lived-in. Raiff brings enough warmth that you stay with him, but he does not soften the selfish choices or the therapy avoidance that keep making things worse.
The film’s therapy material is a mixed bag in an interesting way. It shows how treatment can be clumsy and how the wrong professional can make things worse, with a few sessions that tap into the same frustration as If I Had Legs I’d Kick You did. Still, the movie ultimately argues for therapy, especially once Poorna Jagannathan enters as a grounded, empathetic presence who offers Aaron the care and firmness he actually needs.
It is the side stories, not the main one, that start to feel undercooked. The script sets up arcs for the people around Aaron, but by the halfway point, it mostly drops them, and the supporting characters shift into serving his journey, losing their agency in the process. The mother’s health condition, the parents’ marital strain, and the ex-girlfriend’s attempt to move on are all promising threads that end up getting the short end of the stick. I get why Cayton-Holland first imagined this as a series, because each storyline could breathe, but as a feature, it stays too much on and about Aaron. That and the detour with Kumail Nanjiani’s cameo (who is also a producer) had to be trimmed.
Ironically, the character with the least screen time is the one that lands the best. Leah, in Kaitlyn Dever’s hands, feels fully lived-in, and even in small scenes, she suggests someone who tried and tried again before losing her battle with depression.
It all culminates in a heartfelt final sequence that truly packs a punch, ending on a scene that clearly summarizes the film’s message and delivers genuine catharsis.
AFTERTASTE
I left the film wanting more time with the people around Aaron and more insight into how they were carrying the same loss, rather than the story staying so tightly focused on him. Even with those thin subplots, the movie’s sincerity comes through, and the final sequence earns the catharsis it is reaching for.