Voicemails for Isabelle Review: A Netflix Movie Fit for the Big Screen

Audiences have become all too familiar with streaming service romcoms that follow predictable beats, do what’s expected of them (or maybe a little less), and then fade into the background, rarely to be remembered—that’s not Voicemails for Isabelle. Netflix’s newest movie hits the streamer on June 19, giving it the unfortunate obstacle of competing with Disney’s sequel Toy Story 5, which seems destined to be a smash hit at the box office. However, Voicemails for Isabelle deserves its time to shine this weekend.

The movie centers on Jill (Zoey Deutch), a young woman trying to make her way in San Francisco as an up-and-coming chef. Only half of her heart is in San Francisco, though. Back home, her younger sister, Isabelle (Ciara Bravo), is facing new and increasingly worrying symptoms of her cystic fibrosis. Devastatingly, early in the movie, Isabelle passes away before Jill has time to get back home.

What follows is a heartbreaking story of a grieving woman who leaves voicemails for her dead sister, keeping her updated on her tumultuous love life, struggles at work, and day-to-day experiences overall, just as she had done when Isabelle was still alive. What she doesn’t know is that when her sister died, her number was transferred to the work phone of a man named Wes (Nick Robinson), and he’s been listening to all of her messages.

From its earliest scenes, Voicemails for Isabelle establishes that it isn’t going to be just another addition to the long list of Netflix romcoms. While the star-studded cast of adults in Voicemails for Isabelle is brilliant, with Deutch in particular delivering an incredible performance, the actresses who play young Jill and Isabelle—Alice Comer and Iris Everly, respectively—immediately capture viewers’ hearts with their spunky attitudes and sisterly connection. And when little Jill jumps on top of and begins whaling on the boy she just kissed because he taunted Isabelle for being sick, their lovable characterizations are cemented.

Voicemails for Isabelle sets itself apart and—shockingly—actually feels built for the big screen.

These opening scenes also make quick work of laying the foundation for the storyline, the characters’ personalities, and myriad key details, including that Isabelle is very sick with cystic fibrosis and Jill would do just about anything to make her sister happy. The effect is an important one: When Isabelle dies, despite it being early in the movie, and then isn’t seen again, her significance is still felt throughout the entire narrative, and her death creates a nearly tangible hole in the story.

In fact, that is among the most impressive aspects of Voicemails for Isabelle. It would have been all too easy for the romcom to just use Isabelle’s death to propel a ‘real’ plot about Jill’s romance with Wes forward. Instead, the movie is really a story about sisters, grief, and loss that incorporates love and romance as part of Jill’s healing journey. She even makes that point directly (albeit a bit too directly; it’s a little on the nose), telling Wes, “I don’t need a man. What I need is my little sister back.”

That choice for Jill’s grief to be the real focus also makes the emotional impact of Isabelle’s death even more powerful and painful. The scene in which Jill is in complete denial as her mom is repeating the phrase “She didn’t make it” and then falls to her knees is absolutely brutal. More than an hour later, the moment when Jill realizes her voicemails from her sister have been deleted from her phone and says, “Please, no” as she sobs is equally gutting. And that, too, sets Voicemails for Isabelle apart—seriously, if you have a sister, proceed with caution.

The narrative also never forgets her, even when Jill has reached the ‘acceptance’ stage of her grief and found love. The very last words spoken in the movie, in fact, are, “I love you, Isabelle.” In the midst of that profound story about loss and sisterhood is also a genuinely sweet budding romance between Wes and Jill. Is it predictable? Yes. This is a romcom, after all, and it shouldn’t surprise audiences that the core couple meets, goes through a will-they-won’t-they stage, deepens their relationship, experiences a seemingly irrevocable problem, and then ends up together.

Credit: Netflix

Even with that familiar arc, however, Voicemails for Isabelle sets itself apart and—shockingly—actually feels built for the big screen. One of the more surprising ways the movie accomplishes this has nothing to do with the story or the characters. Rather, the soundtrack for this movie is absolutely fantastic. The film has a strong start, beginning with Robyn’s “Dancing on My Own,” which becomes a sort of motif in the narrative. That top-tier song selection continues throughout the movie, with “Hey Daddy (Daddy’s Home),” “Electric Love,” “Boys Wanna Be Her,” and “Marjorie” following closely behind.

Granted, Voicemails for Isabelle does suffer from some of the issues that frequently plague romcoms. As mentioned, the plot, at least in terms of its larger trajectory, is predictable, and there are certainly cheesier moments, including Jill telling Isabelle that one of the men she is sleeping with is “neurospicy.” Peppered into those minor stumbling blocks or slight issues, however, is a series of hilarious, charming, and deeply emotional moments. Yet another unexpected aspect of Voicemails for Isabelle falls into that first category and involves fan-favorite actor Nick Offerman.

Offerman’s character, Chef Bastien, is, as Jill herself says, “Temu Gordon Ramsay,” and although he’s not a main character, his scenes offer the perfect comedic relief. Frankly, it’s even better that Offerman isn’t heavily featured in the movie, because it’s easy to forget he’s there, only for him to return to the screen to do something absolutely ludicrous in classic Nick Offerman fashion.

Ultimately, though, what truly makes Voicemails for Isabelle stand out is that it isn’t just another romcom that’s going to get some views and be forgotten; this movie offers a genuinely meaningful story, in which audiences get to see Jill heal after this brutal loss—and that’s what it’s really about.