‘Love, Brooklyn’ review: A muted, but moving, love triangle

First-time feature filmmaker Rachael Abigail Holder directs Love, Brooklyn, a film that wavers in the narrative despite three charismatic performances. 

Writer Roger (Andre Holland) is certain of one thing in the romantic drama Love, Brooklyn: he loves, well, Brooklyn. Or at least the Brooklyn he used to know. In the face of gentrification, his beloved New York City borough is evolving into a place he recognizes less and less by the day.

Roger’s less certain about the path to take in love itself. His casual relationship with widowed mom Nicole (DeWanda Wise) is evolving into something more, thanks to the presence of her young daughter (Cadence Reese). But he’s still in touch with his ex, Casey (Nicole Beharie), an art gallerist, with whom his banter flows so freely, you know, old feelings still linger. Casey and Nicole represent Brooklyn for Roger as much as its changing streets do: one links him to the past, a time he can’t get back; the other represents an uncertain future.

A slice-of-life drama.

Love, Brooklyn is as on-the-nose as a title can get. Director Rachel Abigail Holder and cinematographer Martim Vian bring Brooklyn to life as Roger sails down the streets on a bicycle, waxes poetic about change in restaurants and on the stoops of brownstones, and talks to his friend Alan (Roy Wood Jr.) at a local café. Slice-of-life films live and die by how lived-in they feel, and Roger’s visible interactions with the borough he loves make Brooklyn come alive onscreen.

If only the characters felt the same way. Holland, Wise, and Beharie are a terrific trio with grounded chemistry and palpable energy, with natural-flowing dialogue. You want to believe these characters have lives that existed long before the camera started rolling, and the film wants us to think so, given how much Roger misses the way Brooklyn used to be. But in the quest to be relatable to all audiences—people in messy romantic situations, grieving people, people who reflect, overthink, and wonder about the meaning of life—the lack of specificity makes these characters feel like rough drafts rather than real people.

Wandering through romance, the city, and meaning.

Meandering is all well and good in a city, and one of the great joys of city life. But meandering through the lives of our core trio is less compelling, especially when played by such a dynamic leading trio. Holland’s Roger is at times abrasive and infuriatingly selfish, but played with the heart of someone who worries about the inevitability of change. Roger is tasked with writing about Brooklyn, and how can he say anything about Brooklyn if he has stopped recognizing it? Wise’s Nicole is vulnerable and sensible, and Beharie’s Casey is honest and endearing.

Love, Brooklyn wants to say so much—about gentrification, about relationships, about life—and it takes you to the precipice of those ideas, but holds back. Its conclusion paints a picture that there is a whole movie inside those last ten minutes alone, acknowledging the passing of time and the pains and beauties of change. It’s a gloriously beautiful ending. If only the whole film captured this same feeling, instead of dancing right to its edge before changing direction. But what a nice time in Brooklyn it is, all the same.

Love, Brooklyn is out now in theaters. Watch the trailer below. 

Images courtesy of Greenwich Entertainment.

Claire Di Maio

Claire was once asked in elementary school why her go-to question was always, “Watch anything good lately?” It’s still her go-to question, because she loves hearing what other people are passionate about. She often sacrifices sleep in the hopes that she will one day clear her to-watch and to-read lists (a futile effort so far).