A Little White Lie (2023)

A Little White Lie is the kind of offbeat, warmly intelligent comedy that sneaks up on you like a great short story—small in scale, big in heart, and quietly confident in its charm. It takes a deliciously simple case of mistaken identity and lets it bloom into something touching and oddly poetic, poking fun at literary pretension while still honoring the comfort books and words can bring. Michael Shannon is pitch-perfect as a man out of his depth but never out of his humanity, and Kate Hudson adds an easy, luminous energy that keeps the film buoyant even when it turns reflective. If you want broad gags and nonstop hijinks, this may feel too gentle, but if you’re in the mood for a hidden gem with great acting and a tender, bookish vibe, it’s an easy recommendation.

A Little White Lie wants to be a charming identity-swap comedy about an ordinary guy getting swept into literary pretension, and the premise could’ve made for a sharp satire. Instead, it often feels oddly sleepy, with jokes that land softly (or not at all) and a script that meanders like it’s improvising without a plan. The performances lean more indifferent than delightful, which makes the whole misunderstanding less escalating-funny and more “are we done yet?” If you’re in it for breezy banter and big comedic payoffs, this likely won’t satisfy, but if you can tolerate a low-energy, mildly quirky setup and enjoy the occasional small character moment, you might find it harmless enough.