By Jason Osiason

Jimpa is a film with its heart in the right place, but its execution leans too much on restraint, leaving its emotional core feeling muted. It follows Hannah, a filmmaker, who travels to Amsterdam with her nonbinary teenager, Frances, to visit her estranged father, Jimpa, a man she barely knows but who now wants to make amends in the final years of his life. Their reunion is steeped in long, searching conversations about identity, regret, and acceptance, all handled with a kind of careful delicacy that sometimes works against the film’s impact.

The performances are, unsurprisingly, strong. John Lithgow gives Jimpa warmth and dignity, but the script never allows him to fully unravel. There are glimpses of deeper conflicts, but they remain just beneath the surface. Olivia Colman is excellent as Hannah, balancing her frustration, curiosity, and lingering hurt, but the film’s overlong, talk-heavy structure doesn’t always give her the dynamic shifts she’s capable of.

Where Jimpa struggles most is in its cautiousness. It so badly wants to be humane and understanding that it avoids real tension. There’s a sense that every moment is trying to be profound, but it doesn’t always earn it. Instead of letting contradictions play out, it softens them. Instead of letting emotions build and break, it keeps them neatly contained. The result is a film that feels thoughtful but not particularly urgent, a meditation rather than a story.

It’s not a bad film, but it’s frustrating in how much potential it leaves untapped. Thoughtful to a fault, beautifully acted but underwhelming in its execution, Jimpa is more of a slow contemplation than an emotionally gripping experience. A solid attempt, but one that ultimately falls short of being truly compelling. [C]