REVIEW: "Yale is Rich In Realism and Relatable Emotion"

Chosen as the opening night film of the 2026 Dances With Films L.A. film festival, the well acted broken-family picture, Yale, finds a troubled mother confronting her absent father in a time of crisis. While films have certainly walked this dramatic arc plenty of times, director Jay Silverman cast his film to perfection and brings something profound to the material.

Van Billet’s screenplay is based on true experiences with his maternal grandfather; the writer’s personal connection to the story allowing for authenticity in the design and portrayal of the characters.

Caitlin McGee is achingly real as McKenzie “Mac” Mitchell, an alcoholic writer of horror novels with crippling family trauma and an agent/friend (Rachael Harris) who is close to dropping her. Divorced from hubby Josh (Dominic Leeder), Mac is trying to handle her drinking and anger problems while trying to reconnect with son Ryan (Benjamin Mackey, a natural).

After getting arrested for attacking a creepy fan, Ryan takes too many steps backwards. When the devastating news comes down that Ryan needs a kidney transplant, Mac must find her long-absent father, the titular Yale (Kevin Dunn, doing some of his finest work to date).

From there, Yale and his daughter open old wounds and discover a bit more about one another and their own broken souls, but the film steers away from clichés. The story is too important for writer Van Billet. At the core of the screenplay , the picture is rich in realism and relatable emotion. Family responsibility, shattered bonds, and the unbearable weight generational pain are deeply felt thanks to director Silverman’s patient filmmaking and Billet’s respect for his characters.

As Mac and her poppa begin a makeshift roadtrip (the reason shall not be revealed here), Yale becomes a Hal Ashby-esque character piece where a palpable emotional resonance hides within the film’s deceptive simplicities. For the moment (as these tainted souls “reconnect”), the two characters exist in a world populated by moments of humor and abrupt anger. Every word spoken between them is colored with a deep resentment and crippling regret.

Kevin Dunn doesn’t overplay Yale’s eccentric personality. The character’s near-constant joking masks a man who sees the pain caused from the emotional detritus he left behind. This is not an abusive father, but one that ran away. Yale isn’t mean nor intentionally hurtful, yet he is one who hides from his wrongdoings and runs when reality sets in.

Dunn has never been more natural on screen. Yale is the type of character who seems hell bent on being hated, but his heart isn’t empty. He loves, but he loves too many. Yale’s unexplained need to break his vows and ignore his responsibilities has left behind more damaged lives than he cares to acknowledge.

The film doesn’t make excuses for Yale, nor does it plead for the audience to like him. Dunn leans into the flawed existence of a man who just can’t navigate the right path and gave up trying decades ago. Through his soulful performance, Kevin Dunn reminds the audience that even the most broken people have a beating heart.

Caitlin McGee does fine work, navigating the changing dramatic beats with a natural rhythm. There is nothing “showy” in the performance. Mac has let the wounds of her past define her, becoming a living representation of the brokenhearted and the psychologically dispossessed.

The character is as flawed as her father, but Mac’s drive to change has become stronger. Where Yale gave up 30-plus years ago, Mackenzie NEEDS to connect with her son. There is a determination in the character that shines through, even as she continues to make mistakes.

McGee’s work is painful and honest; a performance straight from her soul.

As the picture moves into its final act, Yale becomes a remarkably profound experience, finding its characters not necessarily at a moral crossroads, but at an almost stalemate with an uncertain future. Forgiveness (or the need to be forgiven) is not the number one goal for Mac and Yale. Confronting the present and acknowledging the past will be a cleansing for Mac’s soul; allowing her strength to change. For her father, the sorrow and loneliness that has become a part of his DNA runs too deep. Yale tries to connect and discovers that the time is now to do what is right. Just the attempt to be a real parent (if only for the shortest time) is the symbolic baptism that may not cleanse Yale’s soul, but just might help Mac put away her hatred, both of self and towards her father.

Yale is a sincere film of parallels where two characters share a path of pain and self-sabotage. If there is to be redemption, it will be in the hands of the universe.

The relationship between Mac and her dad is sad, funny, and telling. Jay Silverman and Van Billet have crafted an involving piece colored by naturalistic humor and an acute perception regarding the frayed, yet unbreakable tether between a parent and their child.

Yale
Written by Van Billet
Directed by Jay Silverman
Starring Caitlin McGee, Kevin Dunn, Benjamin Mackey, Dominic Leeder, Rachael Harris
NR, Jay Silverman Productions, Max B. Productions