POOLS (2025)

MPAA: NR.
Release Date: 04/12/25 [Festival Run]
Genre: Comedy. Drama.

THE PREMISE:

"In the midst of her whole life falling apart, Kennedy attempts to somehow reconnect with her dead father, searching for permission to live her own life within a wild pool-hopping escape through the elaborate estates of her college town." 

OUR MOVIE REVIEW:

Pools, the debut feature from writer/director Sam Hayes, is the kind of sun-baked, booze-soaked, nostalgic summer movie that sneaks up on you. It’s part arthouse daydream, part John Hughes throwback — The Breakfast Club meets Lost in Translation meets Garden State — and though it’s a little silly, kinda trippy, and more than a little horny, there’s a scrappy undercurrent that carries it through.

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The setup is classic hangout movie: Kennedy (Odessa A’zion), a college sophomore spiraling after the death of her father and flunking out of school, is floundering in summer classes with no air conditioning. It’s sweltering and she’s aimless, so she grabs a gang of fellow misfits and some booze, and breaks into strangers’ backyards in search of the perfect pool.

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The first attempt ends in chaos — an angry homeowner pelts them with billiard balls — but that doesn’t stop them. Again and again, they quite literally dive headfirst into the backyard pools of the wealthy, chasing escape, connection, and something like meaning.

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The cast is made up of familiar archetypes: Mason Gooding is Reed, the lovable meathead with a six-pack and half a brain; Ariel Winter plays Delaney, the “perfect” blonde and Kennedy’s estranged former friend; Tyler Alvarez is Blake, a socially awkward pre-med hopeful with spazzy tendencies; and Francesca Noel is Shane, the quiet one.

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Michael Vlamis also drops in and out of the narrative as a grumpy air-conditioner repairman who may or may not have Silent Bob tendencies. His character sparks some of the movie’s best laughs — and some of its sharpest philosophical notes.

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But make no mistake: this is A’zion’s show. She vanishes into Kennedy, all sharp edges and broken pieces. There’s a heavy emotional load beneath the breezy setup, and A’zion handles it with raw, natural ease.

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Kennedy sketches in notebooks like a heat-drunk Basquiat, her mood swinging between smart-ass provocateur and Sylvia Plath in the deep end. She’s not just the heart of the film  —  she is the film. Her performance is so grounded and unpredictable that it never feels like acting.

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That authenticity, though, comes at a small cost. The rest of the crew doesn’t get the same depth, which makes their arcs feel more like clever sketches than full portraits. Still, there are lovely, lived-in moments when characters pair off and drop the sarcasm long enough to show some real vulnerability. It’s tropey, sure, but it works because Hayes knows how to let these scenes breathe.

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Technically, the film is a blast. The pacing zips, the cinematography pops, and the soundtrack is on point — a mixtape of hazy indie bangers and woozy synth scores that perfectly match the film’s tone.

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In the end, Pools might not rewrite the coming-of-age playbook, but it doesn’t need to. What it offers instead is a sense of place, of vibe, of feeling like you’re right there — hot, hungover, scared and confused by life, and floating in someone else’s pool. Hayes delivers a feature debut that’s smart, fun, and stylish. And it’s a low-key triumph.