Sacramento: The Double-Edged Sword of Autobiographical Filmmaking

Autobiographical filmmaking can be a double-edged sword. Sometimes it captures authentic emotional depth; but more often, I find it slips into indulgence or vanity. Sacramento, the new indie comedy from writer-director-producer-star Michael Angarano — who 2000’s kids may remember from Sky High (2005) — lands somewhere intriguingly in the middle.

A Reunion Road Trip with Hidden Motives

At its core, Sacramento follows estranged childhood besties Rickey (Michael Angarano) and Glenn (Michael Cera), reuniting after a significant time without contact. Rickey unexpectedly appears in the tree of Glenn’s backyard one day, interrupting his nervous preparation for impending fatherhood with his wife, Rosie (Kristin Stewart). Against his better judgement, Glenn agrees to catch up over a supposedly quick lunch, which escalates into an “impromptu” road trip to Sacramento under the guise of scattering Rickey’s recently deceased father’s ashes — quickly revealed as a lie when Rickey hastily stuffs a tennis-ball tube full of dirt and garbage to pose as a makeshift urn. The trip becomes a comedic series of escalating mishaps, misunderstandings, and things left unsaid, adding layers to the narrative as secrets gradually bubble to the surface.

Laughs Aplenty

While most of my words in this article are going to be critical, the comedic strengths of Sacramento are not to be understated. The film is full of laugh-out-loud moments. Michael Cera — the comedic juggernaut he is — carries every scene he's in, showcasing a hilariously anxious performance full of improvised asides and gestures that consistently hit the mark. Kristen Stewart and Maya Erskine similarly deliver solid performances in their respective roles, grounding the film’s humor with subtle authenticity. Stewart's performance as Rosie is understated yet impactful, providing a crucial emotional anchor to the erratic Glenn, while Erskine’s portrayal of Tallie adds levity and charm — if only they each had more screen time. Moments like the broken crib gag, the ash-dumping debacle, and bit with the meter maid are comedic gold, highlighting the film's clever writing and strong situational humor.

Underwhelming Emotionality

Yet, despite the comedy hitting its mark, the same can’t be said for the emotional beats. Much of the runtime is spent with characters stubbornly refusing to reveal their true feelings — and not in a subtle, layered way. While their emotional evasion initially reveals characterization that could have been a gateway to uncovering something deeper, it soon becomes repetitive. It feels as though the narrative repeatedly delays moments of emotional honesty rather than creating meaningful obstacles for Rickey and Glenn to overcome. The result is an emotional payoff that doesn't quite feel earned, despite plenty of narrative momentum through entertaining detours, like meeting girls at a bar and losing their vehicle. This repeated avoidance of confrontation ultimately diminishes the impact when characters finally do open up.

Rickey: A Lead Lacking Depth

The lead character Rickey — played by Angarano himself — unfortunately feels the least convincing. He’s introduced as somewhat of a deadbeat by Glenn, primarily for disappearing for months at a time, but without adequate context. Perhaps a few flashbacks could have deepened our understanding of their strained dynamic, for a sizeable chunk of the emotionality between these characters relies on the sentimentality of an imagined history.

The prologue hints at Rickey’s past involvement with Tallie but doesn't offer enough reason to genuinely care about their history. The prologue serves as mere foreshadowing, simply making audiences wonder “how does this woman fit into the picture?” rather than capitalizing on the opportunity to make a connection with the audience. Consequently, when she inevitably reappears, the emotional resonance doesn't fully hit as intended, and Rickey’s mysterious motives leading up to this point don’t contribute to much empathy towards his quest by the time his true intentions are revealed.

Subsequently, this causes issue when deciphering whether Rickey or Glenn is the actual protagonist; while Glenn is obviously the character with clearly defined motives and whose POV we experience the story from, Rickey is the one whose arc receives the main focus and whose decisions drive the plot. If Glenn is the protagonist, he spends most of the film being passive rather than active; if Rickey is the protagonist, he spends most of the film with unknown motivation — neither of which is a good thing.

Challenges of Self-Direction

A notable weakness of Sacramento comes from Angarano’s dual roles as both star and director. This can create a disconnect, as filmmakers casting themselves often struggle to view their performances objectively. In this case, Angarano's performance feels somewhat theatrical and forced compared to his co-stars, whose portrayals are more grounded and subtle.

Rickey’s character arc is particularly problematic. Early on, his counselor tells him “You have the tools, you just need to use them.” The issue frequently uses these tools (therapy-speak) in a way that borders on manipulative and self-serving, making his eventual transformation and new direction in life — a counselor to older men — feel somewhat unearned and even concerning. A more critical and nuanced portrayal might have addressed these concerns effectively, balancing his redemption arc with a more critical reflection on his earlier questionable behavior.

The Balance of Autobiography and Authenticity

Sacramento’s autobiographical roots add another intriguing layer. Angarano and Erskine are real-life partners with two young children, raising questions about how much of the narrative reflects real events, though the question is certainly “how much” and not “if.” Interestingly enough, Angarano and Stewart also dated for several years in the 2000’s pre-Twilight. Typically — or at least to my taste — overly autobiographical films, particularly where writers portray versions of themselves, risk becoming self-indulgent.

Take, for example, Kumail Nanjiani’s The Big Sick (2017), where authenticity gave way to self-flattery. It felt disingenuous, and despite the knowledge that the two of them are now happily married in real life, he did not have a single person in the room full of ten people I watched it with rooting for him.

On the flipside, Paying For It (2024), directed by Sook-Yin Lee, managed a brutally honest depiction while adapting the autobiographical graphic novel by ex-partner and still-close friend, Chester Brown. The film chronicles their attempt at an open relationship and Chester’s subsequent experience visiting sex workers — even going so far as to shoot the film in the house where the two of them actually lived together, and where Sook-Yin continues to live today. Her refusal to paint herself and Chester in an overly flattering light allowed the film to achieve greater authenticity as a result.

Sacramento comfortably lands somewhere in the middle of these extremes. Angarano clearly pours heart into his portrayal, but at times seems overly concerned with replicating a predetermined vision rather than organically inhabiting each scene. One can't help but feel the film might have benefited from Angarano focusing solely on acting or directing, but perhaps not both.

Technical Imperfections and Indie Charm

Technically, the film's indie roots occasionally show through. Some blocking, editing choices, and musical cues miss opportunities to emphasize punchlines or enhance the telling of the story visually. A surreal slow-mo wrestling sequence in particular feels slightly too campy, stylistically disconnected from the otherwise grounded comedic realism. The indie constraints also show up subtly in various scenes, from jittery or unfocused camerawork to occasionally awkward framing. However, given the film’s indie nature and budget limitations, these technical hiccups can mostly be forgiven and even appreciated as part of its charm.

A Strong Thematic Core

At its thematic core, Sacramento thoughtfully explores honesty — with oneself and others. You can lie about what you want, what you need, or who you are all you want — maybe until you even start believing it yourself — but it doesn’t change the truth. It confronts how we build comfortable lies around our fears, regrets, or uncertainties until inevitably forced to confront these uncomfortable truths. Glenn’s anxiety around impending fatherhood, manifesting through his repeated projections onto others — like worrying Rosie isn't truthful about her being okay with his spontaneous trip — highlights this central theme effectively. The film convincingly portrays how stacking lies leads to inevitable explosions of honesty. Rickey’s habitual avoidance of responsibility and Glenn’s increasing panic about becoming a father illustrate different ways in which individuals grapple with fear and accountability.

Final Thoughts

Despite these critiques, Sacramento remains a solid indie comedy with undeniable heart, and its relatable themes, comedic highlights, and authentic supporting performances carry it well. Its exploration of parenthood, accountability, and emotional openness should resonate with recent or soon-to-be parents or anyone who struggles with emotional communication. The performances from Michael Cera, Kristin Stewart, and Maya Erskine, in particular, significantly bolster the film, providing grounded authenticity and genuine charm. Angarano certainly deserves credit for undertaking such an ambitious personal project. Directing alone is an immense challenge; writing, producing, and starring adds layers of complexity and responsibility well deserving of admiration. Sacramento will surely entertain, even if it leaves you wishing it reached just a little deeper.