Steven Soderbergh has a tendency to be very surprising – quite literally. One of the most prolific filmmakers of his generation, it is not unheard of for him to produce multiple films in a year, or at the very least have a new project in the pipeline at all times (which is amusing, considering how intent he was on retiring from directing after making the wonderful but otherwise minor Behind the Candelabra in 2013). It stands to reason that only a few of these projects are anticipated, with the hardworking director often travailing away on some new film that he presents us with unexpectedly. One such film was Let Them All Talk, which was somewhat anticipated – insofar as it was said to be a reuniting of Soderbergh with Meryl Streep (who he worked with on the ill-fated social satire The Laundromat a year ago) – as well as a chance to see Streep act alongside two of the most interesting actresses of her generation, Dianne Wiest and Candice Bergen. In every regard, Let Them All Talk is a film that presents us with a director working from a profoundly different set of tools – he’s made these subdued, intimate comedies before, but this feels as if he is dipping his toes into something he’s never tried before. Working from a script by Deborah Eisenberg (who is certainly not a strange to dialogue-driven, humanistic dramas, considering so much of her career has been defined by these kinds of stories, as well as her collaborators with her longtime romantic partner, Wallace Shawn, whose own work, such as the terrific My Dinner with Andre, seems like a blueprint for this film), Soderbergh is able to try something new, developing a very funny and heartfelt film that combines comedy and drama with a creativity that can only come from a filmmaker whose ease with his craft is the defining factor of his career – and taken as it is, Let Them All Talk is an absolutely tremendous comedy with a lot of heart and an even wider grin when it comes to having a good time.

It’s not as common an occurrence as it should be, but we can easily tell when a work of art was produced as a result of its creators having fun. Let Them All Talk was designed to assemble a small ensemble of very gifted actors, giving them the chance to play characters that were perhaps not entirely complex, and thus not quite outside of their comfort zone, but rather designed to capitalize on their own unique talents, and the elements that make them such endearing performers. Allegedly produced in such a way that Eisenberg’s script was merely used as a framework to loosely guide the film, with the majority of dialogue coming from the actors improvising their lines (the validity of which remains to be seen, since some of the writing here seems far too sharp and calculated to be considered entirely off-the-cuff, regardless of how effortlessly gifted these actors may be in such situations), the film places emphasis on the character-driven aspects of the plot, rather than the overarching themes that populate the narrative, which are certainly important, but not more than the human goals of the story. It’s a simple approach, but its one that definitely gives Let Them All Talk the sardonic edge it needs to be a film that manages to carry both emotional heft (especially in the downbeat final act), as well as riotously hilarious, which makes for a polarizing, but thoroughly entertaining, experience in which we’re taken on a journey that feels less like a laborious quest, and more like an entertaining two hours with friends around a dinner table, with free-flowing wine and an abundance of laughs.

Soderbergh truly harnesses all the potential he could with this film, which is a striking comedy that takes itself seriously enough to not be considered a mockery of its more serious themes, nor as a work that seeks to exploit its stars. Instead, Let Them All Talk is an easygoing comedy with a lot of heart, and one that truly reveres the actors who populate it. This is yet another entry into the canon of great films that have a piece of direction right there in the title – and one can only imagine that the impetus for this film was simply to assemble a trio of formidable actresses (Meryl Streep, Candice Bergen and Dianne Wiest), position them across from two incredibly promising young performers that are bound to be definitive of the next generation of screen actors (Lucas Hedges and Gemma Chan), and allow them to converse for a few weeks, capturing the best of their interactions and forming it into a compelling two hours of mercilessly brilliant dialogue. In this regard, everyone is firing on all cylinders – the film contains one of Meryl Streep’s most relaxed performances, playing the anxious, neurotic intellectual, a role she excels at, despite rarely getting the chance to play such a subdued role. She may be more beloved for her broader strokes that she gives in other films, where she either hits impossible dramatic heights, or captures our attention with her incredible comedic timing – but in this film, Streep is restrained and elegant, bringing the sophistication that can only come after nearly fifty years of being one of the finest screen performers of her generation. It’s truly a testament to her talents that she can lead a film by essentially playing a character who isn’t much of a departure from herself (minus the existential angst and the constant need for approval – if there’s anyone who doesn’t need approval, it’s Streep), and still be so entirely convincing and compulsively watchable. 

Streep is complemented perfectly by Dianne Wiest (reuniting with Streep for the first time since Falling in Love in 1984) and Candice Bergen (who is working with both Streep and Wiest for the first time) – and both actresses are just incredible, being the heart and soul of a feel that is built on their insatiable chemistry with one another. Each of these legendary performers have their own incredible moments, which is testament to the ensemble-nature of this film. Despite being the central figure of the film, Streep isn’t the sole focus, and Soderbergh clearly have no qualms with diverting attention away from her (being one of the few filmmakers who she has worked with in recent years that isn’t totally beguiled by her reputation, and actually puts her to work and gives her the chance to toil in the field – sometimes to less-than-ideal results, as we saw last year), and instead placing it on any of her co-stars, who are just as exceptional. Wiest’s soft-spoken, rational empath sharply contrasts with the cynical, vengeful character Bergen is playing – but yet, they’re so entirely compatible, and with Streep’s laid-back, almost airheaded author, they make a formidable trio that have their own moments of outrageous hilarity (nearly everything involving Bergen in the first two-thirds is absolutely hysterical), as well as some depth that comes on behalf of the more dramatic turn this film takes towards the end. This isn’t to dismiss Hedges, who is just as good as his co-stars, and who is steadily making a case for himself as one of the finest screen partners to some of cinema’s most beloved veterans, working alongside them in a way that his reverence is clear, as is his commitment to matching them beat-for-beat throughout. Let Them All Talk works because of the commitment brought to the film but its cast, who underplays each scene enough to make it appear realistic, but don’t hesitate to have some fun while they’re at it.

Let Them All Talk is a film that checks off a number of boxes – it’s a wonderful work of acting (hence the main topic of discussion when looking at this film will always likely be the performances, since its so character-focused), a chance to see some of the most talented performers of their generation at their peak, as well as a very simple story about the boundaries between reality and fiction, a sub-plot that we initially think is just a throwaway joke, but becomes the main propellant of the film and its main motivation. It also belongs to the small subset of cruise ship films, which are always entertaining, considering they often facilitate some wonderfully irreverent commentary on society without outright stating it (and very few films are able to be as scathing in its portrayal of the class divide than this one, in its many references to Streep’s character’s enormous stateroom, which is a topic of well-earned ridicule throughout), and even manages to become a stealthy entry into the canon of odes to writers, which is not a topic entirely foreign to cinema, but doesn’t always hit the right notes without coming across as smarmy at one extreme, overwrought at another. This is by no means a revolutionary film – and considering it hails from Steven Soderbergh, a filmmaker known for his boundary-pushing cinematic experiments, Let Them All Talk can easily be dismissed as a minor work. However, considering how this is a very peculiar departure for a director, we can consider this one of his more interesting attempts at exploring genre, since we’re constantly waiting for some sense of direction – we never quite know where the film is going, and whether it’s going to maintain the same tone throughout, or if it will veer wildly off-course and take us entirely by surprise (which it does, just not in the way we’d expect). Ultimately, Let Them All Talk is a fascinating portrait of humanity, taken from the perspective of a few ordinary people gathered together with nothing but copious amounts of wine, a loosely-composed itinerary and their own memories, and the unresolved emotions that go along with them – and when thrown together on screen, these components become so wonderfully compelling.