As I get older, it’s getting harder for me to bring myself to watch movies about diseases that could impact my family. Specifically, movies that focus on Alzheimer’s disease, when I’m old enough to worry that my mother may get it while she’s dealing with it with her mother. Movies like Still Alice and The Father, which bring nuance to the subject, are great “one and done, never willingly watching that again, and you can’t make me” films.
That said, I saw Leah Nelson’s debut animated feature, Tangles, twice before writing this. Mostly because animation is my most digestible medium. Plus, it’s that time of year when I get through my back burner TIFF reviews. Nevertheless, this black‑and‑white dramedy based on Sarah Leavitt’s graphic novel Tangles: A Story About Alzheimer’s, My Mother and Me is an impactful, personal, and vulnerable exploration of the subject. It examines the painful process of having to halt all of life itself when dealing with the imminent slow-burning grief of losing a loved one whilst their memory slips away.
MPA Rating: R (for language, sexual content and some graphic nudity)
Runtime: 1 Hour and 42 Minutes (102 minutes)
Language: English
Production Companies: Point Grey Pictures, Monarch Media, Giant Ant Films, Lylas Pictures
Distributor: Independent Film Company
Director: Leah Nelson
Screenwriters: Sarah Leavitt, Leah Nelson, Trev Renney
Cast: Abbi Jacobson, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Bryan Cranston, Samira Wiley, Beanie Feldstein, Seth Rogen, Pamela Adlon, Sarah Silverman, Bowen Yang, Wanda Sykes
U.S Release Date: November 27, 2026 (New York and Los Angeles, Oscar-qualifying run); January 15, 2027 (Limited); January 22, 2027 (Nationwide)
Sarah (Abbi Jacobson), a lesbian receptionist at an indie LGBTQ magazine in San Francisco, was commissioned to do their cover and started a romance with a hot biker, Donimo (Samira Wiley). Things look good until she returns home to her backwater small town in Maine and learns something is wrong with her mother Midge’s (Julia Louis‑Dreyfus) brain. At just 52, Midge has become forgetful in her day‑to‑day activities — leaving the iron on unattended, unable to open the door correctly — and learns from her younger sister Hannah (Beanie Feldstein) that she’s just been laid off from her teacher job. Her professor father, Rob (Bryan Cranston), thinks it’s menopause. Subsequently, Midge is diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. As Sarah struggles with her mother’s failing memory, she’s forced to move back and forth between coasts to be there for her family, while her career and relationship are put on the back burner.
Tangles makes the chaos of caregiving feel painfully human.
Though I haven’t read the source material, Tangles’ feature cinematic artwork differs from Leavitt’s illustration. Nelson and her animation team stray from the crude abstract linework of her art, adopting a “New Yorker cartoonist” drawing style. Yet that doesn’t negate the animation’s absolutely stunning quality. Nelson’s animation team captures Leavitt’s imaginative vitality in each frame, translating her reflective, illustrative drawings into an arresting black-and-white realm. I felt overwhelming sadness thinking about the late Marjane Satrapi; Tangles has a similar expressive, personalized style and imagination to her Persepolis adaptation.
The hyperrealistic animated backgrounds, with beautiful attention to detail, use different shades and shadow cues to inform the time of day. Nelson’s direction puts us in Sarah’s head and lets us follow her as she lives an independent, punkish, gay life. But as Midge’s health declines and Sarah puts pressure on herself, we feel the intensity of her devotion furthering into her psyche. A perky-voiced yet sardonic flight attendant (Sugar Lyn Beard) voices Sarah’s anxious subconscious. Then tote thrusted through captivating abstract dream sequences, exemplifying her weighty anxieties and dread. In one standout scene, Sarah’s mind spins to her playing games at a casino in hopes of winning the most treatable illness for her mother, throwing dice at a crafts table, and then each face transforms into Midge’s face while she frightens herself by looking at health pamphlets.
The screenplay, which Leavitt wrote with Nelson and Trev Renney, is incredibly grounded and honest but also very witty. The film uses comedy to highlight the family’s intimate dynamic (the flashbacks of Midge helping Sarah’s burgeoning queer identity are among the funniest scenes), naturally expressing their closeness and coolness. I love that the family is pro-gay-daughter, especially as a “period piece,” without being in your face about the period (the length of the ‘90s iconography is landline phones and one great Elaine Benes joke).
It has a Raphael Bob-Waksberg vibe, with character-driven humor and eccentricity that bluntly depicts the sacrifices the family must make when Midge’s Alzheimer’s intensifies. I would be remiss if I didn’t say the film could have spent more time developing the relationship between Sarah and Midge before the illness becomes the defining force in their lives. One more flashback scene could’ve detailed their love. Its melodramatic beats, particularly in the second half, are repetitive, which affects the pacing and gives you a realistic sense of the frustration that comes with Sarah’s chaotic new life situation. However, that doesn’t take away from the film’s poignancy and heartbreaking sentiments.
Tangles is the kind of adult animation we need more of in features.
Tangles is a prime example of why you should hire talented voice actors because its cast is at the top of their game. While Riley, Feldstein, Seth Rogen, and Cranston are all excellent, Abbi Jacobson’s intense, impactful performance is what really holds the film together. Jacobson’s growth into a prominent voice-acting career post-Broad City (which shaped my sense of humor) has only gotten stronger, and Tangles is the apex of her skillset. She confidently and easily captures Sarah’s erratic feelings and angsty demeanor, but she also ventures into bold, emotional territory I didn't even believe could top Long Story Short. Jacobson firmly cements herself as one of the best voice actresses we have right now. JLD as Midge is phenomenal too, embodying the agonizing aspects of the illness in her faint voice and forgetful tone, particularly when scenes showcase her vibrancy, full of conviction and vitality.
Following Bouchra, Memoir of a Snail, Anomalisa, and Flee, Tangles is another potent entry in the adult animation feature canon. This is another bold mature film that truly defines what adult animation should be in the feature film space. It uses the medium for a refreshing look at a familiar, harrowing subject and honest elements that are funny by nature without needing to be juvenile or shocking.
At the end of the day, Tangles is an honest family portrait of a loved one becoming less of themselves day by day. Anchored by Abbi Jacobson’s incredible performance, beautiful 2D animation, and a deft script as funny as it is heartbreaking, it’s Dare I say, an unforgettable animated feature that you surely can’t miss this season?
