While Mike Mills’s C’mon C’mon had the potential to be just another story of a weary and broken man whose life is changed by the time he spends with a child – a clichéd narrative structure that is all-too-often tiresome and emotionally manipulative – Mills is able to assemble a such a beautiful and genuinely moving film that earns its emotional beats, rather leaning hard into mawkish sentimentality. So much of that is due to fantastic performances from the entire cast – from the adults leads and the phenomenal child performer, to the exceptional supporting actors. They help ground what could otherwise be a saccharine melodrama and give this film about the need for connection more weight and substance. The incorporation of interviews with real children is an essential component that helps to ground the film and effectively contrast Johnny’s ability to connect with kids he has just met with the very real struggles he has in caring for his nephew. The film’s use of time and memory are lovely here – the fluid breaks from the present are perfect representations of the ways that the past is always with us, and in this film, the ways that the family’s present continues to be shaped by past hurts and wounds. With Johnny’s work in public radio, the sound design is stellar, and as he introduces his nephew to the tools of his profession, the film’s soundscape is spectacular – opening Jesse up to a world of sonic possibility. So many narratives in this vein completely sideline the child’s parents to ensure that the new adult caregiver can have their moment of growth, so it’s refreshing that Gaby Hoffmann’s character remains a constant presence throughout the film and is given her own arc. It’s a rich and rewarding family drama that never comes by its emotional moments through manipulation or cheap narrative tricks, but through great performances and an incredibly honest script about the ways life rarely turns out the way we expect and our need for connection and community to weather the inevitable sorrows along the way.