Movie Review ~ For When You Get Lost

As the skies have started getting darker earlier and the temps are dropping faster, the time has come to say goodbye to another summer of road trips.  When I can tear myself away from the theater and travel time allows, I enjoy nothing as much as getting to a destination the old-fashioned way.  It’s likely why I’m a sucker for books, TV, and movies set on the open road and the personal journey it can provide for travelers. 

For When You Get Lost finds itself in good company among the classic road trip movies that have come before it. Offering a quiet nod to Little Miss Sunshine (minus the beauty pageants) and even a softer Thelma & Louise (without the cliff), this small gem leans into the road-trip-as-redemption formula but with a fresh, indie sensibility. Director Michelle Steffes and writer-star Jennifer Sorenson understand the genre’s appeal: the long highway can serve as both a place of discovery and revelation, where physical distances mirror emotional rifts. So though For When You Get Lost may follow well-trodden paths, it offers enough heartfelt diversions and genuine performances to make the trip worthwhile.

June Stevenson is a character who might, at first glance, seem like a standard indie protagonist, but Sorenson elevates her with a blend of charm and authenticity. Recently, after a breakup and facing the impending loss of a family member, June convinces her estranged sister Cami (Elizabeth Alderfer) to join her on a Pacific Coast road trip to make amends with their estranged father (Mark L. Taylor, Arachnophobia). Their stops at scenic spots and a series of craft breweries—loosely inspired by Sorenson’s life—add a textured authenticity to the journey, grounding the film in experiences that feel more lived-in than leased for laughs.

Sorenson’s double-duty role as both June and the film’s writer infuses the character with a self-aware humor that makes her relatable, even when frustratingly guarded. Her decision to stay one sip ahead of her past mistakes, as the script wryly notes, mirrors a universal desire to escape while still hoping for a breakthrough. Sorenson’s performance is unpretentious yet introspective, giving June enough quirks to amuse without overdoing it and pushing the audience away from being able to root for her. The screenplay, filled with Sorenson’s personal touches, combines the wit of someone who has truly lived through awkward family reunions with the thoughtful restraint that mostly keeps it from veering into melodrama.

Steffes’s direction complements Sorenson’s approach, establishing an unhurried rhythm that feels almost improvised. Scenes are given space to breathe, and instead of tightly packed emotional crescendos, Steffes lets quieter moments linger.  As a result, For When You Get Lost is less about dramatic arcs and more about observing the small, often funny ways people grow or resist change. The spontaneous nature of the storytelling allows for an authenticity that’s refreshing in a genre that can quickly become heavy-handed and solely focused on wrapping up its issues before it gets to where it’s going.

The supporting performances of Alderfer (as middle sister Cami) and Aja Bair (as half-sister Mikey) create a portrait of sisterhood that feels specific; their interactions crackle with authenticity—long-simmering resentments and inside jokes bubbling up at precisely the right moments.  While each sister gets her moment to shine, Cat Hammons (Falling for Christmas) delivers the film’s standout performance as Joann, June’s stepmother. Hammons could have quickly fallen into the stereotypical “new wife” role, but instead, she brings Joann to life with a no-nonsense wisdom and subtle warmth that make her feel like a real, layered person. Her scenes, particularly with Sorenson, give the film its strongest emotional pull and resist becoming a mere plot device.

Where For When You Get Lost occasionally stumbles in its third act when it leans into more conventional emotional beats that often crop up in family-centered comedies. While the movie admirably avoids wallowing in its heavier themes, the final reconciliation feels somewhat rushed, as if the filmmakers were too eager to wrap things up neatly. There’s an itch for a bit more depth here, a desire to explore these weightier moments with the same gentle curiosity the film uses to loiter on during its scenic stops.

However, these minor missteps don’t greatly detract from what For When You Get Lost achieves. It’s a carefully crafted, thoughtful exploration of family dynamics and the messy reality of reconciliation. It may not redefine the genre or reach the cathartic peaks of the films it subtly references, but its modest ambitions are part of its charm. The film handles its heavier themes—death, estrangement, the fraught relationships we inherit—with a light touch, never overshadowing the story’s brighter moments. It’s a movie that celebrates the unpolished moments of family connection and acknowledges that healing is often a winding road rather than a straightforward destination.