Carrie Pilby (2017)

Carrie Pilby is special because it turns the “young genius” trope into something tender and unexpectedly funny: a bright, prickly mind learning that being right isn’t the same as being well. Bel Powley gives a wonderfully honest performance that lets Carrie’s sharp judgments and social misfires land as comedy, then quietly reveals the vulnerability underneath, all without begging for your sympathy. Director Susan Johnson keeps the film moving with lively, talky energy and New York bustle, while the dialogue sparkles with the kind of specific observations that feel overheard rather than written. It’s not for everyone—if you need big plot twists or can’t stand an abrasive protagonist at first—but if you like character-driven dramedies about growing up a little later than expected, it’s an easy one to root for.

Carrie Pilby is clearly aiming for a smart, compassionate coming-of-age dramedy about a young genius learning that being right isn’t the same as being okay, and Bel Powley does a lot of the heavy lifting with a sharp, watchable performance. The problem is the movie often feels like it’s checking off “quirky NYC self-discovery” boxes—dating misadventures, neat little lessons, convenient side characters—rather than letting the emotions grow naturally, which can make it come off sitcomish and a bit smug. Tonally it wobbles between sincere introspection and breezy comedy, and the script isn’t as insightful or complex as it wants you to believe. If you enjoy gentle, talky indie dramedies with a prickly-but-lovable lead and don’t mind contrived arcs, you’ll probably have a decent time; if you’re hoping for something genuinely incisive about intelligence, loneliness, and adulthood, this may feel like a lightweight lecture.