Sundance Review: A Beleaguered Father Embarks on an Unforeseen Road Trip with His Children in Omaha

      On an early morning, a single father and widower (John Magaro), referred to as Dad, wakes up his insightful nine-year-old daughter Ella (Molly Belle Wright) and playful six-year-old son Charlie (Wyatt Solis), urging them to quickly pack a suitcase. Everyone is a bit drowsy as they load the car, which includes their golden retriever Rex, just as a police officer arrives to attach an eviction notice to the front door. With a running push in neutral—a familiar routine—Dad and Ella manage to start the old car, and soon they’re off. The destination remains unclear to both the children and the audience.

      Omaha is a quiet and poignant film, though somewhat predictable, unfolding like a slow-burning enigma that primarily follows Ella's concerned and skeptical perspective as she tries to make sense of their unplanned road trip. Things gradually come into painful clarity. While fleeing from their home in Utah, they drive past John McCain campaign signs, buy Lunchables with food stamps, and enjoy a CD mix of their mother’s favorite songs. Before long, Dad reveals they’re headed to Nebraska, although director Cole Webley, in his debut feature, keeps further details close to the vest. It seems that Dad himself isn’t fully aware either.

      Robert Machoian's screenplay is minimalistic, making Magaro the perfect choice for this journey. Until recently (specifically September 5), Magaro primarily portrayed a quiet stoicism, conveying weary kindness in films like First Cow and as a marginalized husband in Past Lives. Here, he spends much of his time internally grappling with his financial troubles and life choices from the driver’s seat, or making distressed phone calls to someone whose voice Webley keeps hidden from us. Few actors encapsulate a blend of sadness, shame, and helplessness behind the faintest smile better than he does. It’s as if Dad is aware of his impending actions but feels powerless to change course.

      As their trip progresses, a sense of unavoidable fate looms larger. Yet the children’s performances are vital to this narrative. The difficulty of being nine is being acutely aware when something feels off but lacking the control to change it. Wright captures this conflict in beautifully natural and expressive ways, showcasing her strong chemistry with Magaro, who shares concerned glances and outbursts with her as their situation becomes increasingly dire or confusing. One gets the impression they have been navigating challenges together (pushing their car, sharing ice cream, and checking on one another) throughout her life, making this sudden departure feel even more tragic. Webley’s choice of Solis also adds depth, as he embodies the naive backseat sibling, oblivious to the possibility that this journey through middle America might be more than just a chance to collect toy cars from gas stations.

      Webley doesn’t shy away from the typical rhythms of road movies, employing the well-worn juxtaposition of traumatic moments with uplifting, lyrical music, which accompanies underwater shots of Ella swimming in a rundown motel pool, and expansive shots of the flat, endless horizons that dwarf their small car. This makes the audience ponder how many others on the road might be facing similar struggles. Occasionally, he captures striking imagery, such as the scene where the children fly a kite in the salt flats—still frames that resemble photographs, evoking fleeting memories that suggest a looming reality.

      With every passing moment, it becomes clear that Dad is eager to create and hold onto as many cherished memories as possible—even if that means pulling over for a bathroom break and letting Ella and Charlie playfully dance on the car's hood. This desire motivates a later trip to the zoo, where the children's joyful expressions justify a costly ticket purchase. Webley uses these detours to highlight the significance of ordinary moments while subtly foreshadowing a significant upheaval.

      The film concludes with a poignant and sobering title card after a touching cameo from Talia Balsam, providing a clarifying context for everything witnessed. Though I’m unsure if this was necessary, as it shifts the film from a living, breathing, touching portrayal into something more statistical. It serves as a harsh reminder that this intimate story, brimming with empathy and compassion, isn’t as singular or unique as one might wish.

      Omaha had its premiere at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival.

      Grade: B