Loss isn't a straight line. It’s a jagged, messy, confusing swirl of grief and—weirdly enough—unexpected joy. That’s exactly what Josephine Decker tried to capture in The Sky Is Everywhere movie, the 2022 A24 and Apple TV+ collaboration that polarized fans of Jandy Nelson’s beloved YA novel. If you’ve seen it, you know it’s not your typical teen drama. It’s a kaleidoscopic fever dream.
Lennie Walker is a musical prodigy who just lost her sister, Bailey. She’s stuck in a house full of roses, a grandmother who talks to plants, and an uncle who’s constantly high on life (and maybe other things). Then she meets Joe Fontaine. He’s the "Paris of guys." But she’s also drawn to Toby, her sister’s grieving boyfriend. It’s messy. It’s technically a love triangle, but it’s mostly a girl trying to find her pulse again.
The Visual Language of Grief and Music
Josephine Decker didn’t want to make a movie that looked like real life. Why would she? When you’re seventeen and your world ends, life doesn’t feel like a documentary. It feels like a hallucination.
In The Sky Is Everywhere movie, the scenery literally reacts to Lennie’s emotions. When she plays the clarinet, notes aren't just sounds; they are visual bursts of color. When she’s overwhelmed by Joe’s presence, the world around them dissolves into surrealist imagery. Some critics found this distracting. Others, like those at IndieWire, praised the film for its "expressionistic" take on the teenage experience.
It’s a bold choice.
Most YA adaptations play it safe. They give you the "distressingly handsome lead" and the "perfectly lit bedroom," but they rarely take risks with the actual medium of film. Decker, known for her experimental roots in films like Madeline's Madeline, brought a Sundance sensibility to a story that could have easily been a Hallmark tragedy.
Lennie’s house is a character of its own. It’s overflowing with foliage and cluttered with memories. This isn't the minimalist, Pinterest-ready aesthetic of modern cinema. It’s suffocating. It’s alive. It’s a visual representation of the "Gram" (played by the legendary Cherry Jones) and Uncle Big (Jason Segel) trying to keep the family rooted while the ground is shaking.
Why Jason Segel Was an Unexpected Masterstroke
Casting Jason Segel as Uncle Big was a choice that raised some eyebrows initially. People know him from How I Met Your Mother or his Muppet-related projects. But Segel brings a specific type of soulful, bumbling empathy that the role desperately needed. He’s the bridge between the kids and the adults. He represents the weird, eccentric grief that doesn't involve crying in a corner, but rather finding solace in the absurd.
The Controversy: Book vs. Film
Let’s be real. If you’re a die-hard fan of Jandy Nelson’s prose, the movie might have felt like a bit of a shock to the system. Nelson actually wrote the screenplay herself, which is rare. Usually, a studio hires a "script doctor" to streamline the plot. Since the author was at the helm, the changes feel intentional, yet the tone shifted significantly from the page to the screen.
- The internal monologue: In the book, we spend so much time inside Lennie's head. We read her poems on scrap paper. The movie tries to replicate this with "magical realism," but some fans felt the deep, agonizing interiority of the book was lost to the visuals.
- The Joe Fontaine factor: Pico Alexander plays Joe. He’s charming. He’s radiant. But the "man-child" energy Joe has in the book—the way he literally glows—is hard to translate to film without looking a little cheesy. The movie leans into the cheese. It embraces it.
- The Toby dynamic: This is where the movie gets tricky. The relationship with Toby is dark. It’s born out of shared trauma. In the film, it’s treated with a bit more brevity than some readers expected, focusing more on Lennie’s "awakening" through Joe.
Does it work? That depends on what you want from an adaptation. If you want a 1:1 recreation, you’ll be disappointed. If you want a film that captures the vibe of being a teenager in mourning, it’s a triumph.
The A24 Touch
You can tell this is an A24 flick. There’s a specific DNA in their productions—a willingness to let scenes breathe and a refusal to shy away from "weird" editing. Grace Kaufman, who plays Lennie, delivers a performance that anchors the whole chaotic mess. She has to toggle between being a grieving sister and a girl falling in love for the first time, often in the same scene. It’s a lot for a young actor, but she carries it.
Honestly, the chemistry between Kaufman and Alexander is what saves the middle act from becoming too much of a "style over substance" exercise. When they share a scene, the movie slows down. It stops trying to be a visual masterpiece and just lets two people exist in a space.
Addressing the Critics: Is It Too Much?
On Rotten Tomatoes, the film sits at a respectable but not earth-shattering rating. Many critics pointed out that the "whimsy" can be grating. If you aren't in the mood for people dancing in fields and poetic musings on the sky, you might find yourself rolling your eyes.
But here’s the counter-argument: grief is "too much."
When you lose someone close, your emotions are dialled up to eleven. The movie’s frantic energy mirrors the chaotic thoughts of a girl who feels like she’s betraying her dead sister by feeling happy. That’s the core of the story. The guilt of moving on. The film uses its bright colors to contrast the dark hole in Lennie’s heart. It’s a jarring experience because that’s what the situation is.
Real-World Takeaways for Your Next Watch
If you’re planning to dive into The Sky Is Everywhere movie, go in with an open mind. Don't expect a standard rom-com. It’s more of a tone poem about the resilience of the human spirit.
- Watch it for the cinematography: Even if you hate the plot, the way the film is shot is objectively beautiful. The use of light and nature is top-tier.
- Pay attention to the music: As a story about musicians, the soundtrack and the sound design are crucial. It’s immersive.
- Don't compare it to the book while watching: Treat it as a companion piece. The book is the internal world; the movie is the external explosion of those feelings.
The film reminds us that the sky isn't just "up there." It’s everywhere. It’s the air we breathe, the space between us, and the weight of the people we’ve lost. It's a reminder that even when the world feels like it's ending, there's still a reason to pick up an instrument and play.
How to Process the Film's Themes
If you find yourself moved by the themes of grief and recovery in the film, there are actual ways to engage with these feelings outside of the screen.
- Creative Outlets: Lennie uses music and poetry. Whether it's journaling or just humming a tune, finding a physical way to express "the heavy stuff" is a proven therapeutic method.
- Acknowledge the "Grief Duality": The film shows that it’s okay to be sad and in love at the same time. These aren't mutually exclusive emotions.
- Check out the soundtrack: Exploring the musical influences of the film—classical mixed with indie vibes—can be a great way to decompress after the credits roll.
The film is currently available on Apple TV+. If you haven’t seen it yet, or if you’ve only read the book, it’s worth the 103 minutes just to see how a director can turn a internal monologue into a visual explosion. Just bring some tissues. You’ll need them for the scene in the woods alone.
Next Steps for Fans
To get the most out of this story, try reading the book after watching the movie. It fills in the gaps that the visual flair might have skipped over. Specifically, look at the way Nelson describes Joe's "musicality" in the text versus how it's portrayed visually. Comparing these two mediums offers a fascinating look at how we translate human emotion into art. After that, look into Josephine Decker's earlier work to see where her unique "dream-logic" style originated.