Netflix is largely known for thrillers, action, and high-stakes drama, but recently it has brought back a softer, more emotional tone with a wave of warmth and romance. After a long gap—arguably since Korean dramas like When Life Gives You Tangerines—Voicemails for Isabelle arrives as a heartfelt rom-com that delivers everything fans of the genre look for: longing, tenderness, and the emotional depth of modern relationships.
Starring Zoey Deutch as the free-spirited Jill and Nick Robinson as the quietly grounded Wes, Leah McKendrick’s film blends grief and hope in a deeply moving way. At its core, it centres on the intimate bond between two sisters while gently unfolding a natural, understated love story between Jill and Wes.
Spoiler warning: the story details ahead reveal key plot points.
Jill and Isabelle are inseparable sisters, the kind who live boldly, push boundaries, and try to make every moment count. But when Isabelle is diagnosed with a life-threatening illness, everything changes. Her eventual passing leaves Jill devastated, and she begins processing her grief by leaving voicemails for her sister—daily messages filled with love, memories, and longing. These voicemails become less about coping and more about sustaining a connection that death cannot erase, forming the emotional heart of the film.
Director Leah McKendrick, who also appears in the film, portrays their sisterhood with subtlety and authenticity. Instead of relying on dramatic gestures, the film highlights everyday rituals, childhood memories, and the way Jill lived loudly so Isabelle could experience life through her. The result is a portrayal of grief that feels intimate rather than melodramatic.
As Jill navigates life after loss, she also tries to rebuild her future—pursuing a baking dream she once shared with Isabelle and adjusting to life in a new city. Her journey reflects not just grief, but the feeling of learning to live alone while still holding on to love and memory.
Wes enters her life as a calm, emotionally present presence. Their romance grows slowly and organically through small shared moments—conversations, city outings, and quiet understanding. Rather than dramatic gestures, their bond is built on consistency and emotional honesty. Jill’s chemistry with Wes feels natural, shaped by contrast: her chaotic energy balancing his steady warmth.
The film also explores Jill’s deeper longing—not just for companionship, but for sisterhood itself. Her voicemails are not born out of loneliness in the romantic sense, but from the absence of her sister, highlighting how certain bonds shape identity more than any other relationship.
Wes is portrayed as a thoughtful and supportive partner whose actions speak louder than words. From respecting Jill’s emotional space to helping preserve her connection to Isabelle’s memory, his quiet gestures establish him as a deeply grounded romantic lead.
Their relationship avoids typical rom-com excess, instead focusing on emotional maturity and mutual growth. Both characters evolve individually before coming together, making their connection feel earned rather than convenient.
Voicemails for Isabelle ultimately blends classic rom-com charm with a modern emotional sensibility. It recalls beloved Western romances and classic Bollywood love stories alike, while updating its language for a generation shaped by voice notes and digital intimacy. Beneath its light humour and romance lies a strong undercurrent of grief, healing, and acceptance.
In the end, the film stands out for its sincerity—offering a love story that is gentle, emotionally aware, and rooted in real human connection, while also celebrating the enduring power of sisterhood and memory.
