Ella McCay (dir. James L. Brooks)

by Jack Martin | Dec 13, 2025

Certificate: 12A

Running Time: 115 mins

UK Distributor: 20th Century Studios

UK Release Date: 12 December 2025

WHO’S IN ELLA MCCAY?

Emma Mackey, Jamie Lee Curtis, Jack Lowden, Woody Harrelson, Rebecca Hall, Kumail Nanjiani, Spike Fearn, Ayo Edebiri, Albert Brooks, Julie Kavner, Becky Ann Baker, Troy Garity, Erica McDermott, Sheetal Sheth, Joey Brooks

WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?

James L. Brooks (director, writer, producer), Julie Ansell and Richard Sakai (producers), Hans Zimmer (composer), Robert Elswit (cinematographer), Tracey Wadmore-Smith (editor)

WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

A young politician (Mackey) juggles family drama with a life-changing opportunity…

WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON ELLA MCCAY?

You wouldn’t have thought it, but Ella McCay might just be this year’s Megalopolis. To clarify, writer-director James L. Brooks’s film is nowhere near as bonkers as Francis Ford Coppola’s now infamous passion project – nobody stops time here, nor does Jon Voight show up to perform a monologue about his erect penis (thank God) – but both share a surprising number of traits. For one, they’re both comeback vehicles by revered filmmakers who are now well into their 80s and hadn’t made a film in at least a decade beforehand. For another, they are both about ambitious figureheads with plans for a prosperous future for all once they get past a number of difficult personal and professional hurdles. And most significantly, they’re both terrible.

One could argue, however, that Ella McCay is more concerningly bad, because no matter what you may have to say about Megalopolis, Coppola at least put plenty of passion into his own colossal trainwreck. Brooks, whose last film How Do You Know back in 2010 underperformed so badly that it caused Jack Nicholson (who won not one but two acting Oscars under Brooks’s direction in Terms of Endearment and As Good as It Gets) to go into retirement, seems entirely lost behind the camera, as though he has no idea what he’s doing when it comes to writing, directing, editing, reining in performances, and so much more. Though one doesn’t doubt Brooks’s cognitive abilities, especially at his age, the movie is such a colossal mess that you almost want to get him booked in at the hospital to check for any signs of mental decay.

It’s 2008, slap-bang in the middle of the recession, and the titular Ella McCay (Emma Mackey) is the 34-year-old Lieutenant Governor of Unnamed State, USA. How did she get to such a high level of local government at her age? What even was her path into politics in the first place? Don’t expect answers to any of these questions, as the film focuses specifically on an episode where Ella is unexpectedly promoted to Governor after her mentor Bill Moore (Albert Brooks) resigns from his position after accepting a cabinet position at the White House. The news could not come at a more inconvenient time for Ella, who on top of her new duties is also contending with the sudden reappearance of her womanising father Eddie (Woody Harrelson), as well as big-sistering her reclusive brother Casey (Spike Fearn) who’s reeling from the breakup of his former girlfriend Susan (Ayo Edebiri, capping off a disappointing year of film after Opus and After the Hunt), and dealing with an imminent scandal involving the illegal use of government property to have sex with her opportunistic husband Ryan (Jack Lowden).

Beyond how this is a plot (or, more accurately, loosely connected series of sub-plots) straight out of the many sitcoms that Brooks has helped create over the years, from The Mary Tyler Moore Show to The Simpsons, the script doesn’t even have the decency to pick just one to focus on, instead choosing to do all of them at once. Needless to say, it makes the movie feel extremely cluttered, often to a point where you’ll actually wonder what or even who the movie is supposed to be about, because Brooks does not do a particularly good job of establishing a consistent flow that makes any of these scenes feel naturally connected to one another. It will switch tones at the drop of the hat, with some scenes starting off like a screwball hijinks comedy before halfway through suddenly becoming a heartfelt tearful moment with sad Hans Zimmer music on the soundtrack, and others play out as though they’re extended improv sessions that somehow didn’t end up on the cutting room floor, padding out the runtime to near confusing lengths.

Even if Ella McCay was developed into an actual sitcom, it wouldn’t have been one that lasted longer than a single season, because the writing is so lacking in humour and humanity that it ultimately leaves you with nothing to latch onto and nobody to care about. So many characters are either ill-defined or extremely one-note, particularly Jamie Lee Curtis whose role as the title character’s aunt is predominantly to signal a non-existent studio audience laugh track with every line read or over-the-top reactions. Although, in her defence, the dialogue in general is filled with things that no actual human would say in any real conversation, leaving a lot of the other actors – including Mackey, who is doing her best in a role seemingly tailor-made for 2000s-era Anne Hathaway – stranded with material that gives them little beyond a bunch of empty cloying monologues. Crucially, not once is there a moment where it feels like you’re genuinely laughing, aside from the unintentionally funny tonal shifts and the fact that the main image of Mackey’s Ella McCay standing one-legged adjusting her shoe that’s all over the marketing is nowhere to be seen in the actual movie (unless I somehow missed it, which given how easy it is to space out during this is a legitimate possibility).

It’s just not a good movie, hampered by confused direction and an imbalanced script that barely amounts to anything, wasting plenty of good actors with material that even they struggle to enliven. More frighteningly, it carries the conviction and the charm of a politician in current-day America, meaning well for the most part but ultimately doing next to nothing in their attempt to bring about actual change.

SO, TO SUM UP…

Ella McCay is a concerningly bad comeback attempt for writer-director James L. Brooks, whose fifteen-year absence from filmmaking greatly shows in a feature-length sitcom that’s nowhere as funny, charming or consistent as his much better past contributions, and strands plenty of good actors with weak and impractical material.