A mousy teenager with curly hair and a face full of acne, Minnie is the farthest thing from cool — even if the actress who plays her, Katherine Mallen Kupferer, has charisma to spare. Minnie is practically invisible to most of the students at North Little Rock High School, which is what makes her friendship with Callie — the most popular girl in her class — so special. They’ve been close since before such things mattered, and Callie’s the sort of person who always made sure that Minnie was included.
So what does life without her best friend look like? And how does one balance that loss with what everyone else is feeling, from Callie’s shellshocked mother (Sophie Okonedo, giving the first Oscar-worthy performance of 2026) to those classmates who claim Callie as their own? The latest modestly scaled, sensitively crafted drama from directors Alex Thompson and Kelly O’Sullivan, “Mouse” is a movie without a clever marketing hook, but it’s intelligent, perceptive and true. As in their two previous heartfelt Middle American indies, “Saint Frances” and “Ghostlight,” the couple draw from their own lives and the world around them.
Here, they turn their attention south, to O’Sullivan’s home state of Arkansas, setting the film in 2002 — a time before cell phones and social media rewired how we engage with one another. Back then, the world was still skeptical of therapy, and teens consumed pop culture on shiny silver platters. (Minnie meets her first love behind the counter of the local CD/DVD store.) In Minnie’s class, Callie’s the born performer, destined for a life on stage or screen. Everyone else saves dancing for prom or the senior cabaret show — which Callie’s churchy friend Cara (Audrey Grace Marshall) suggests they dedicate to her memory.
“It’s not enough to be sad — we have to do something,” Cara self-righteously announces, commandeering theater class from exasperated teacher Mr. Murdaugh (David Hyde Pierce). There’s a certain amount of entitlement that comes with kids of Cara’s age and class, which O’Sullivan’s script smartly treats as the subtext to a film that might otherwise be compared to “Ordinary People” or “Waves,” in which tragedy nudges an introverted adolescent out from under the shadow of their “most likely to succeed” sibling.
“Mouse” deals with similar themes, but a lot of other territory as well, including a “Lady Bird”-like exploration of how working-class teenagers like Minnie might feel ashamed having a mom like Barbara (Tara Mallen), who’s brash and oblivious, but doing her best. Without Callie around, the chasm between Minnie — who holds an after-school job and eats microwaved junk at home — and Callie’s other friends feels wider than ever.
Minnie takes it out on her mom, a veterinary assistant juggling a house full of rescue animals and a random toddler she’s all but adopted (the boy needs a home, and her heart is bigger than Minnie appreciates). When Callie was there, she spent as much time at possible at her upscale friend’s house, and now that she’s gone, Minnie gravitates to her mother, Helen (Okonedo), an elegant, once-radiant woman — now drained by grief — with a posh British accent.
Helen’s grateful for the company, taking Minnie under her wing, and spoiling her with home-cooked meals and private singing lessons. Together, they decide that Minnie can sing a showtune from “A Chorus Line” during the senior cabaret, and though Minnie insists she has no talent, there’s comfort for both parties in Helen treating Minnie the way she would her own daughter. (The movie’s tender piano score is so comforting, we could be eavesdropping on Helen playing to herself late one night.)
In a more conventional film, Helen might unlock some hidden potential in the socially introverted teen, which would then be revealed at the big show. But “Mouse” is grounded not just in reality, but relatability. While not a comedy, it’s full of humor and subtle, wince-worthy moments that feel instantly familiar: the time you made a fool of yourself in front of the entire class, or the harshest thing you ever said to a parent and now wish you could take back.
Where Minnie grew up not knowing her father, Callie has the kind of dad who stocks the fridge with beers and pretends not to notice if any go missing — which might seem ideal to some, until you consider his daughter’s fate. But “Mouse” isn’t meant as a lecture on such things. Tragedies befall teens all the time, and in this case, the focus is on moving forward, as represented by Minnie’s tentative flirtation with a girl named Kat (Iman Vellani).
A mix of actors of wildly different experience levels, the ensemble meshes together beautifully, reflecting the idea that none of these characters knows quite how to navigate the situation. They’re all fumbling, convincingly so, from the adults to the kids. Pierce has two powerful scenes, including a key moment in which he asks his students to express how they feel in public and in private, silently observing how Minnie differs from her peers. And while Kupferer feels like a discovery — one the directors made on “Ghostlight,” though given a much larger role here — it’s Okonedo and Mallen as the film’s competing maternal forces who impress most. While the film may seem like a love letter to a lost friend, it’s fitting that it’s actually dedicated to O’Sullivan’s late mother, Eileen, appreciation for whom illuminates every frame.
Source: variety.com
