There’s been a lot of reflection at the 2026 Sundance Film Festival, the last to be held in its original home of Park City, Utah. Jay Duplass is one of many for whom the nation’s premier independent film festival has been a launching pad. Since then, he’s found his niche in serious comedies about young men emotionally struggling with a trauma. It’s fitting that Duplass returns to Park City this year with See You When I See You, in which he continues to explore his signature themes but is missing a key component: charm.
Duplass is a textbook Sundance success story. His film The Puffy Chair was a breakout hit at the 2005 festival. Written, produced, and directed with longtime collaborator and longer-time brother Mark, the unpolished feature was an early exemplar of the mumblecore genre––categorized 2000s works produced with an ultra-low budget and focus on small, interpersonal stories over plot and filmmaking flair.
Since then, his work has gone through distinct phases. His early “mumblecore” efforts (The Puffy Chair, Baghead) to its more refined iterations (Cyrus, Jeff, Who Lives at Home) to television (Togetherness, Transparent) to his current period of true stories based on the poignant experiences of comedians (The Baltimorons, See You When I See You).
As with Duplass’ other protagonists, Aaron Whistler (Cooper Raiff) is stuck in an emotional rut. His best friend and sister Leah (Kaitlyn Dever) committed suicide, and Aaron and his family are cleaning up in the tragic wake. We meet the Whistlers as they clear out Leah’s apartment. Aaron’s father Robert (David Duchovny) has taken a blunt, matter-of-fact approach to his daughter’s death while his wife Paige (Hope Davis) has dissociated, retreating inward while operating on autopilot, leaving older sister Emily (Lucy Boynton) as the glue holding the broken family together.
Aaron’s pain is unique from the rest of his family: he was not only the closest with Leah, but the one to discover her death. His thoughts, of the “if only I had got there a little earlier” variety, impose an undue burden of responsibility for her demise as he recedes from his social life and into the bottle.
Adapting Adam Cayton-Holland’s memoir Tragedy Plus Time, this is Duplass’ second consecutive film stemming from comedians’ personal tragedies. Last year’s The Baltimorons is based on the experiences of Michael Strassner, who co-wrote and stars in the delightful Christmas Eve-set story. While Duplass had taken a 13-year break from the cinemas, his soft spot for sensitive, downtrodden bros endures. His brand of introspective comedies relies on the charisma of lead performances, which include household names like Jason Segel in Jeff, Who Lives at Home and John C. Reilly in Cyrus, but also newcomer Strassner in The Baltimorons. Unfortunately, See You When I See You’s lead, Cooper Raiff, is unable to provide the appeal Duplass’ characters need to offset their antisocial personalities.
Unlike Duplass’ other struggling man-children, Aaron comes off as grating and irritating. He rekindles a relationship with Camila (Ariela Barer), who does her best to be drawn to the understandably distraught 27-year-old but keeps him at arm’s distance. Unwilling to recognize the space Camila puts between them, Aaron grows more aggressive by showing up unannounced and becomes increasingly jealous of any interaction she has with another man. Like his insecure outbursts, Aaron’s attitude towards two mental-health professionals trying to help him is meant to be excused by his situation, but come off as despicable. It all feels like a play for pity rather than empathy, a tone Duplass has previously avoided.
While one may be inclined to excuse this shitty guy-ness in Duplass’ characters for their puppy-dog likability, Aaron just feels like a shitty guy. His affection for Emily’s infant daughter (Raiff is great with the kid) isn’t enough to compensate for the rest of his faults; Duplass’ ultimately forgiving, optimistic view of his imperfect dudes feels unearned with Aaron.
See You When I See You’s charm problem doesn’t stop with its main character. Duplass’ films are, like their protagonists, scruffy in presentation. While often shooting with a documentary style that helps ground characters while presenting a more humanistic perspective, Duplass here opts to iron out those wrinkles for a more conventional cinematic style. This less-straightforward approach extends into scenes of magical realism—unusual for the director—where Aaron interacts with his memories of Leah. It doesn’t necessarily hurt the film, but I can’t say it helps either.
What does help See You When I See You are performances from its remaining ensemble—namely Dever, Boynton, and Davis. Compounding Paige’s grief of losing a child is the discovery of a lump on her breast which causes her to detach even further from her family. Davis, who got her start as an indie darling, presents Paige’s struggles with a quiet grace.
See You When I See You is a miss for the generally consistent and solid Duplass, but it’s good to have him back in the director’s chair.
See You When I See You premiered at the 2026 Sundance Film Festival.