In a 2023 interview with IMDb about her debut dramedy Scrambled, actor/writer/director Leah McKendrick remarked on her unique creative style and balance with serious subject matter like the pressures of fertility for women in their 30s and conventional comedy structures: “I think magic happens if I don’t hold on so tight to the tone of things … because I think life is mixed tone.”
With her 2026 follow-up, Voicemails for Isabelle, McKendrick attempts once more to thread that particular needle, this time striking a balance between overcoming family tragedy and finding love with a secret twist.
Written by McKendrick herself (along with a co-starring role as Breeda), the story centers on Jill (Set It Up star Zoey Deutch), a no-filter, vivacious spirit who lives for two—herself and her sister, Isabelle, who stays at home battling cystic fibrosis. Even as Jill grows older and moves away from their Texas hometown to culinary school and her dream city of San Francisco, the sisters stay in constant contact over the phone, sharing the details of their daily lives.
Voicemails for Isabelle. (L-R) Nick Robinson as Wes and Zoey Deutch as Jill in Voicemails for Isabelle. Cr. Diyah Pera/Netflix © 2026
When Jill gets a frantic phone call to come home, her life is shattered as Isabelle finally succumbs to complications from her disease. To help process her grief, Jill decides to call Isabelle’s old number and leave voicemails for her like they always used to. However, those calls are now being received by Wes (Jurassic World’s Nick Robinson), an Austin-based commercial real estate agent who becomes fascinated with the tales and emotions of Jill’s chaotic life in the Bay.
Things take a turn when Wes takes a business trip to San Fran in hopes of meeting Jill in the real world. When the two start to hit it off, Wes is torn as to when and how to tell Jill about the voicemails, fearing that it may destroy the best thing he’s ever had.
While not afraid to get messy with tones and genres, McKendrick’s latest is an often sweet but occasionally inconsistent story that finds itself asking a lot of its lead, Zoey Deutch, to keep the story on the tracks—which, to her credit, she does remarkably well with impressive energy and range.
The film whiplashes its audience between charming childhood memories, traumatic loss, sitcom job humor, overly obnoxious sexual encounters, whimsical romantic montages, career resurgence, and Robyn’s “Dancing on My Own” dance parties to make a story that shines in the presence of Deutch’s Jill and struggles to matter beyond her heliocentric charisma.
Beyond Jill and her coming-of-age after losing her purpose in making Isabelle happy, the script is filled with questions and tropes that often derail Jill’s arc, particularly when it comes to Wes and his role in her life.
Voicemails for Isabelle. (L-R) Leah McKenrick as Breeda and Nick Robinson as Wes in Voicemails for Isabelle. Cr. Courtesy of Netflix
Who is Wes? What do we know about him? Why is he good for Jill beyond the fact that he didn’t ghost her or cry during sex? Well, we know he doesn’t mind breaking the law to get ahead, and he was content being with a woman for six months even though she was mostly trashy and abusive. Everything he is beyond that is in service to Jill or improved by Jill. He needs her more than she needs him, and every speech they have about each other proves it. The final voicemails to Isabelle say it all: Wes tells Isabelle that he will “ask if (he) can move to her … watch every episode of Top Chef … promise to partake in all the Robyn dance parties”—all things that have nothing to do with him as a person and more as a dating version of Isabelle. And Jill tells Isabelle that Wes “can’t fry an egg … acts all cool but is actually a Magic: The Gathering nerd … and … he can’t dance, but I’m working on it” without saying how he makes her feel or why he’s good for her. They are together because the bars were low and Wes had inside information.
While the humor also struggles to land (sorry Lukas Gage and Nick Offerman, I normally love your work) and the friendship between Wes and his only friends never feels meaningful or earned, the movie somehow stays afloat because you want to see Jill happy… because you want to see Zoey Deutch and her megawatt smile happy… because you want Isabelle’s passing to mean something. Voicemails for Isabelle is an ode to the people who try to make sense of life after life cuts them down, punctuated by the right actor to convey all of the ups and downs along the way.
Leah McKendrick wanted to embrace the magic of the mixed tone, but your mileage may vary on the effectiveness of each note. She should leave a thankful voicemail for Zoey Deutch.
Watch Voicemails For Isabelle If You Liked
- Scrambled
- Set It Up
- Everything, Everything
- You’ve Got Mail
MVP
Zoey Deutch as Jill
Voicemails for Isabelle. Zoey Deutch as Jill in Voicemails for Isabelle. Cr. Diyah Pera/Netflix © 2026
Early on in Zoey Deutch’s career, casuals could point to the finer aspects of her famous mother’s acting career and what managed to get passed down to the daughter of Lea Thompson.
But, for me, starting with a small role in Richard Linklater’s Everybody Wants Some, Deutch has built an impressive career as a risk-taking, witty, and compelling actor with a keen eye for strong projects that appeal to her best attributes. From grimy indies to franchise blockbusters, Deutch thrives in many genres, regardless of whether she has the lead or a standout supporting role.
In Voicemails for Isabelle, she shows every bit of her range as she has to be the fun, slightly reckless older sister to a dying sibling as well as the love interest, the grieving lost soul, and the burgeoning career woman, all wrapped up in an adorable and endlessly fascinating package. The movie only goes as far as Deutch will take it.
Voicemails for Isabelle is many things—a family tragedy, a romantic comedy, a coming-of-age story, a little overthought, a tad too long, a tone-shifting rollercoaster—but it only succeeds because Zoey Deutch makes you want to see this through. From a solid foundation of the bonds of sisterhood, strong performances guide you through some script misfires and comedy tropes to get you dancing to Robyn by the film’s end.
