Who says the romcom is dead?
Netflix's Voicemails for Isabelle makes a compelling case that the genre still has plenty of life left in it. Written and directed by Leah McKendrick, the film stars Zoey Deutch and Nick Robinson in a romance that begins with loss rather than love.
Deutch plays Jill, whose younger sister Isabelle (Ciara Bravo) dies of cystic fibrosis. Struggling to cope with her grief, Jill continues leaving voicemail messages on her sister's old phone number, unaware it has since been reassigned to Austin-based estate agent Wes (Robinson). As he becomes invested in the intimate snapshots of a stranger's life, an unconventional romance begins to unfold.
What sets Voicemails for Isabelle apart is that it isn't simply a love story between Jill and Wes. At its heart, it is also about the bond between sisters.
Early on, we see Jill and Isabelle grow up together, sharing everything from everyday phone calls to a choreographed dance routine to Robyn's Dancing on My Own. Even after Isabelle's death, her presence remains the emotional heart of the film.
At one point, Jill describes Isabelle as “the love of my life”, while Isabelle calls her sister “the most loveable person I've ever known”. It's a reminder that romantic love isn't the only relationship worthy of taking centre stage.
That isn't to say the romance takes a back seat. Before Wes enters her life, Jill endures a string of disappointing dates that will feel painfully familiar to anyone who has navigated modern dating. This makes her eventual connection with Wes feel like a breath of fresh air. Of course, this being a romantic comedy, their path to happiness isn't entirely straightforward.
What I enjoyed most about Voicemails for Isabelle was how it manages to balance grief with humour. A film centred on the death of a sibling could easily descend into being overly sentimental, yet McKendrick never lets it. The humour never feels forced, nor does it undermine the weight of Jill's loss. Instead, it reflects the reality of grief, where moments of heartbreak and laughter can comfortably exist side by side.
This is helped enormously by its two leads. Deutch delivers a strong performance as Jill, moving between warmth, vulnerability and quiet resilience without ever reducing the character to her grief. Robinson, meanwhile, brings an easy charm to Wes that makes him a likeable enough character, even with the unusual premise of the meet cute.
Still, the screenplay isn't without its flaws. The biggest weakness is that it asks viewers to overlook significant ethical questions surrounding Wes's decision to continue listening to Jill's private voicemail messages. While the film acknowledges that his actions cross a line, it ultimately resolves the issue a little too neatly. Some viewers may struggle to move past the premise, regardless of Robinson's earnest performance.
Ultimately, Voicemails for Isabelle is less about finding “the one” than learning to live with loss. Jill and Wes's relationship may be the film's destination, but it is Jill's enduring connection with Isabelle that gives the journey its heart.
By grounding its central romance in grief, family and healing, Voicemails for Isabelle offers something richer than the genre's usual formula. Funny, heartfelt and quietly moving, it proves there is still room for romantic comedies that embrace emotional complexity without losing their sense of hope.
