Like many of Schitt’s Creek stars, co-creator/writer/director Dan(iel) Levy has been largely absent from screens ever since the show finished its run in 2020. Debuting in 2015 to good notices but meager ratings due to its limited distribution in the U.S., the Canadian series received a significant boost once it began airing on Netflix. It became the kind of word-of-mouth hit that sent many on a serious binge, culminating with a set of final episodes that left many (me included) in emotional shambles. The performances were arguably unforgettable, but something special about the writing team Levy headed gave the show its magic touch.

Of all the talents involved with Schitt’s Creek, I’m not surprised that Levy has taken so long to return because when you finish something uniquely perfect, you don’t rush out and lob something new at the viewer.  It invites an unfair comparison with the nearness of your last work, leaving little room for the follow-up to survive on its own merit. We’ve seen more than a few creatives take a significant hit from either fickle fans looking for more of the same or wry critics hoping to be shown an entirely new side of the artist.

It isn’t long into Good Grief, Levy’s dramedy premiering on Netflix after having a short theatrical run in December, to recognize he’s moved on from the Creek and put down roots in different but still fertile ground. Levy trades irreverent laughs for tears in his examination of love between different sets of couples, both platonic and intimate. The result is a frequent tear-jerker that will sneak up on you when you least expect it.

Levy (Happiest Season) plays Marc, an American artist living in London with his handsome husband of fifteen years, Oliver (Luke Evans, Pinocchio), a bestselling author with a series of novels Marc helped illustrate.  As the film opens, the couple throws a swanky Christmas party, hosting a packed crowd of family and friends at their charming flat, including Marc’s effervescent friend Sophie (Ruth Negga, Passing) and former boyfriend Thomas (Himesh Patel, Yesterday). The happy celebrations of the holiday are cut short when Oliver, departing later that night for a book signing in Paris, is killed in a car accident mere steps from his front door.

In the year that follows, Marc leans on his friends for support and tries to find a way to move through his grief without letting the pain of Oliver’s loss consume him. Sophie and Thomas do what they can to console him and help him find his way back to a new normal. Still, no amount of alternative pathways can pull Marc away from his heartache, not even a brief encounter with a visiting French businessman (Arnaud Valois, Paradise Hills). As the anniversary of Oliver’s death approaches, Marc is snapped out of his sorrow by unexpected information that inspires a trip to Paris with Sophie and Thomas, leading to a catharsis they’d all been seeking but not in the manner they were anticipating.

If you’ve seen the trailer for Good Grief, you may already know where the film is headed, and I won’t spoil it for those who haven’t.  The Paris trip becomes a journey of discovery for all three close friends, with each being allowed to grow incrementally in how they relate to one another, to themselves, and to those they love/have loved. Through these relatable, complex modern relationships, the viewer is along for an often unpredictable ride that savors its slow climb up to its lookout point, where the air is much clearer for all.

Never one to shy away from wearing his heart on his sleeve, Levy’s script is bouncy when playing around with comic exchanges or gallows humor but sincere in its depiction of the lasting effects despair can take on a soul. Some may argue the script is too skilled and conscious with its language, but Levy has always been efficient with his words and says precisely what he means. That’s where his most natural comedy comes from and how he’s able to write such incredible monologues for celebrated stars like David Bradley (The World’s End) as Oliver’s aged father and the boffo-good Celia Imrie (Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again), who delivers a mighty roar speech without ever raising her voice.

If I find that Levy is often more successful behind the camera than in front of it, it’s only because there are moments I feel he gets a little lost in his prose. Sometimes, you can almost feel him reciting passages he’s worked out in the writing process rather than having it be an acting discovery. It’s a minor quibble in a quite endearing performance, especially when he’s working with the likes of Patel (excellent as an eternal single who still carries an Olympic-size torch for Marc) and the superb Negga. As that one friend who is a complete mess but holds themselves with the confidence to make you believe they can conquer the world, Negga nearly walks away with the entire movie.

I was beginning to lose hope that romances centered with a serious focus on gay relationships could still get made, but aside from Red, White, and Royal Blue (which made my naughty list for 2023), there has been a welcome uptick in quality as of late. With All of Us Strangers garnering awards praise and Our Son (also starring Evans) respectfully showing the breakdown of a marriage where a child is involved, I’m comforted to see that it’s possible to be gay, fall in love, and not have everything played for laughs in the movies. Good Grief is good enough to stand alongside these films. Though I’m scratching my head as to why Netflix is dumping this one in the doldrums of late December/early January, I’m hoping that the same internet that discovered and embraced Levy’s previous work will also get wind of this. It’s a terrific film, one I can see being added to my rarely updated roster of rewatchable romantic dramas.