Eleanor the Great follows 94-year-old Eleanor Morgenstein, played by June Squibb, who, after moving to New York to reconnect with her family, accidentally fabricates a story that spirals beyond her control. Scarlett Johansson’s directorial debut explores themes of aging, loss, family, and truth in a poignant tale of friendship and identity.
Scarlett Johansson’s directorial debut, Eleanor, the Great, is a film that walks a tightrope. It teeters between heartfelt sentiment and moral unease, between laugh-out-loud charm and moments that make you squirm. It’s a story that dares to ask whether good intentions can excuse bad behavior, and whether grief can justify deception. The answer, as the film suggests, is complicated.
At the heart of this tangled tale is Eleanor Morgenstein, played with fiery precision by June Squibb. Eleanor is 94, sharp-tongued, and unapologetically difficult. She’s spent the last several decades living in Florida with her best friend Bessie, a Holocaust survivor whose trauma has been shared only with Eleanor. Their bond is deep, forged through years of companionship and mutual loss. But when Bessie passes away, Eleanor’s world begins to unravel.
Forced to move back to New York and live with her daughter Lisa (Jessica Hecht) and grandson Max (Will Price), Eleanor finds herself adrift. Her family is well-meaning but distant, and Eleanor, ever the contrarian, resists their efforts to help. A misstep at the local Jewish community center lands her in a support group for Holocaust survivors. Embarrassed but encouraged to stay, Eleanor begins to share Bessie’s story as her own.
What starts as a moment of confusion quickly becomes a full-blown impersonation. Eleanor, suddenly embraced by the group and no longer invisible, finds herself basking in the attention. Her tale catches the eye of Nina (Erin Kellyman), a young journalism student grieving the recent loss of her mother. Nina sees Eleanor as a source of inspiration and connection, and the two form a bond that is both touching and troubling.
The film’s strength lies in its performances. Squibb is magnetic, delivering Eleanor’s barbed wit with impeccable timing while revealing the vulnerability that lies beneath. She makes Eleanor’s deception feel less like a malicious act and more like a desperate grasp for meaning. Kellyman, as Nina, brings a quiet intensity to her role. Her grief is palpable, and her need for connection makes her an easy target for Eleanor’s charm.
Chiwetel Ejiofor plays Roger, Nina’s father and a respected news anchor. His presence adds another layer to the story, as Eleanor’s lies begin to attract wider attention. The stakes rise, and the emotional fallout becomes harder to ignore.
Tory Kamen’s screenplay is ambitious, tackling themes of aging, identity, and the ethics of storytelling. It doesn’t shy away from the discomfort of Eleanor’s actions, but it also doesn’t fully condemn her. Instead, it invites the audience to sit with the ambiguity, to wrestle with the idea that sometimes people lie not to deceive but to be seen.
That said, the film is not without its flaws. The narrative occasionally leans too heavily into sentimentality, and the resolution feels overly neat given the gravity of Eleanor’s deception. There are moments when the tone shifts abruptly, moving from light-hearted banter to emotionally charged confrontation without warning. These tonal inconsistencies can be jarring, but they also reflect the complexity of the story being told.
Johansson’s direction is confident, if occasionally uneven. She gives her actors room to breathe, allowing the relationships to develop organically. The friendship between Eleanor and Nina is particularly well-crafted, offering moments of genuine warmth and heartbreak. It’s a dynamic that anchors the film, even as the plot veers into morally murky territory.
One of the film’s most compelling aspects is its exploration of how society treats older people. Eleanor’s impersonation is rooted not just in grief but in a deep sense of invisibility. She is a woman who has lived a full life, yet finds herself overlooked and underestimated. Her lies are a way of reclaiming agency, of asserting her presence in a world that has moved on without her.
The film also touches on the power of storytelling, and the fine line between honoring someone’s memory and appropriating their experience. Eleanor’s use of Bessie’s story is deeply problematic, but it’s also a reflection of her love and admiration. She wants the world to know Bessie, to feel the weight of her survival. In doing so, she crosses a line that cannot be uncrossed.
Despite its uneven tone and ethical quandaries, Eleanor, the Great is a film that lingers. It presents a portrait of a woman who is flawed, funny, and heartbreakingly human. Squibb’s performance is the glue that holds it all together, infusing Eleanor with a vitality that makes her impossible to ignore.
You may leave the cinema unsure of how to feel. You may laugh, you may cringe, you may even cry. But you will remember Eleanor. And perhaps that’s the point.
Eleanor the Great is in NZ Cinemas from October 9, 2025
Find your nearest screening here
Find your nearest screening here