When so many movies are defined by explosions, sneers, and resurrecting decades-old franchises, Remarkably Bright Creatures dares to be something we see far too rarely these days: a heartfelt film unafraid to embrace feeling, compassion, and gentle human interaction. Directed by Olivia Newman and based on Shelby Van Pelt’s bestselling novel of the same name, Remarkably Bright Creatures had all the ingredients to easily turn maudlin or gimmicky. Particularly because its main storyline centers around the unlikely friendship between a curmudgeonly widow and a giant Pacific octopus. Instead, Remarkably Bright Creatures manages to become one of the most emotionally rewarding films of the year, buoyed by a transcendent performance by Sally Field and a truly compassionate ensemble that fully understands what’s at stake with this material’s balance of sadness, comedy, and optimism.
Reviewed by Allan R. Ellenberger
Field stars as Tova Sullivan, a lonely widow working nights at a Pacific Northwest aquarium years after the disappearance of her teenage son permanently altered the course of her life. During her solitary routines, she forms an unusual connection with Marcellus, an exceptionally intelligent giant Pacific octopus whose observations about humanity quietly frame much of the story. Into this carefully ordered world drifts Cameron, played by Lewis Pullman, a rootless young man searching for answers about his own fractured past. The emotional relationship that develops between Tova and Cameron gradually becomes the heart of the film, unfolding with remarkable tenderness and restraint.
Sally Field has long had a talent for making cheesy sentimentality look sincere. But while generations of Americans got to know her on TV and in comedies, she has been one of our greatest actresses of drama for decades – none of her performances resonate quite like Sybil (1976), which first allowed us to see how deep her characterization went beneath her sunny likeability. Field channels all that skill into Tova, a woman broken by tragedy who can still find joy, kindness, and rebirth.
She may be playing against an octopus for the first time here, but Field makes their relationship believable because she roots it in honesty, not weirdness.
The movie also serves as a validation of Lewis Pullman - son of the late, great Bill Pullman - as one of his generation's more quietly powerful actors. There's a purity to Pullman's performance that lends the film much of its heart. His scenes with Field are some of the best in the film, handled with not a trace of melodrama but rather a slowly-building trust between two people who just happen to be lonely. Watching these two actors together is incredibly touching because the film never rushes them into big emotional confessions.
Olivia Newman directs sympathetically and doesn't milk any of the source material for broad fantasy extravagance. Instead, she favors mood, character subtleties and just gorgeous imagery. The aquarium scenes are some of the most gorgeous in the film, awash with icy blues and sparkling light with an air of quiet sadness that reflects the characters' own loneliness. Even Marcellus, brought to life with visual effects and soulful voice talent, registers less as spectacle than an oddly moving witness.
Critical reaction has been overwhelmingly positive, with reviewers praising the film’s warmth, performances, and emotional sincerity. Several critics have noted that the film succeeds precisely because it refuses irony, embracing old-fashioned humanism at a moment when many contemporary dramas fear appearing earnest. Audience response has been even stronger. Viewers have connected deeply with the story’s themes of grief, aging, loneliness, and found family, while social media reactions have frequently described the film as cathartic and unexpectedly emotional.
What impressed me most about it was the characterization. Almost every major player in the story feels completely fleshed out and has emotional baggage that gets revealed organically, not robotically. The script lets quietude, reservation and watching carry weight. It knows that solitude can be expressed not with speeches but with routines, habits and the silences people build around themselves.
Remarkably Bright Creatures is a stunning, big-hearted movie buoyed by one of Sally Field’s most moving performances in recent memory. When filmgoers tend to lament that movies make them feel nothing anymore, this sweet-natured drama shows up quietly to do just that. Beneath its quirky trappings is something deeply relatable: a story about loss, redemption, and the idea that even after we’ve suffered incredible heartbreak, connection can still find its way back to us. It is, quite simply, one of the year’s best films.
Showing at theaters until May 14, and currently streaming on Netflix...
“Visually beautiful, emotionally intelligent, and anchored by one of Sally Field’s most affecting late-career performances.” — The Hollywoodland Revue
Tomorrow on The Hollywoodland Revue: the tragic final days of Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle, the silent-screen comedy king whose spectacular fall from grace became one of Hollywood’s earliest and darkest scandals.
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