Azazel Jacobs’s film “His Three Daughters” opens with a series of intense, almost theatrical monologues with the focus on three adult daughters of a dying father. The film begins with Carrie Coon portraying Katie, who assumes the role of the responsible sibling, listing tasks and concerns to her sister Rachel, played by Natasha Lyonne. Next is Elizabeth Olsen as Christina, the youngest, who is dedicated to caring for their father as he undergoes hospice care at home, revealing her own insecurities. Rachel, the overwhelmed pot smoker, has been living with their father in New York City but struggles to confront him.
The film, now available on Netflix, shifts away from its initial theatrical tone as the sisters navigate their father’s impending death. For most of the film, viewers don’t see their father, focusing instead on the dynamic among the three women, who while having drifted apart, are not completely estranged. Katie resents Rachel for smoking weed in the apartment, forcing Rachel to find compromise while dealing with her sisters’ judgments.
Despite a screenplay that can sometimes feel one-dimensional, the actresses bring depth to their roles. Coon gives life to Katie’s frustration, demanding engagement from those around her. Olsen subtly portrays Christina’s warmth as a facade for her vulnerabilities, while Lyonne’s charm adds complexity to Rachel’s seemingly carefree demeanor. While the film’s narrative may not be surprising, the performances captivate.
“His Three Daughters” ultimately explores themes of waiting—whether for death or resolution—and reflects on the emotional toll of caring for a dying loved one. The absence of their father for much of the film underscores the focus on the sisters’ relationships, shaped by their collective history with him.
As the film concludes, the daughters finally bring their father, played by Jay O. Sanders, into the scene, revealing him to be more lucid than expected. In a surreal twist, he dramatically removes his medical equipment, heads to the kitchen, and expresses his feelings about his daughters and New York, though this moment is later shown to be a fantasy. This conclusion raises questions about reconciliation and understanding, hinting at Jacobs’s own struggle with the film’s themes of death and closure.