Driveways (2020)

Driveways is the kind of small, quietly radiant film that sneaks up on you, finding deep feeling in the ordinary rhythms of a summer and the simple miracle of being truly seen by someone next door. Andrew Ahn directs with remarkable restraint and tenderness, letting silences, glances, and everyday errands carry the emotional weight, while Hong Chau brings grounded strength to a mother doing her best and Lucas Jaye captures childhood uncertainty with disarming honesty. At its heart is Brian Dennehy, delivering a late-career performance so warm and lived-in it feels less like acting than like time itself speaking—funny, gentle, and quietly devastating in the best way. If you’re looking for big twists or melodrama, this isn’t that movie; but if you want a humane, soft-spoken drama that leaves you a little more openhearted than when you started, Driveways is absolutely worth the trip.

Driveways is aiming for a gentle, human-scale story about an unlikely friendship and the small ways people help each other through grief and change, and it largely succeeds on that quiet wavelength. The catch is that it’s so restrained and low-stakes that if you’re waiting for a big emotional turn or a clear dramatic payoff, you may feel like the film is just politely circling its point. The pacing is unhurried and the storytelling is sparse, sometimes to the point of familiarity, so it can play more like a slice-of-life mood piece than a plot-driven drama. If you’re in the mood for soft performances and subtle warmth (with Brian Dennehy’s presence doing a lot of heavy lifting), it’s a lovely, modest watch; if you want momentum, twists, or catharsis, this probably isn’t your film.