Omaha Film Review:  An Unknown Road Trip

A family heads for Nebraska without explanation in Omaha, a sorrowful family drama that packs an emotional gut punch.

Omaha is told to us through the eyes of the kids, and their dad is not forthcoming with detail. He tells the daughter, nine-year-old Ella (Molly Belle Wright), that they’re going to Nebraska. We’ll find out the rest once we get there.

Part family drama, part mystery, the film deserves to have its destination revealed to the audience at the same time as to Ella and her little brother Charlie (Wyatt Solis). The disorientation, the search for clues, is part of the journey. Young Ella – whose deep and quickly-maturing inner world is brought to life on Wright’s pensive face – is expected by her dad, Martin (John Magaro), to act beyond her years. She sticks her head out the car, soaking up the wide open Midwest road, before she’s dragged back inside and told not to act stupid, to be responsible. Wherever it is they’re going, childhood is being jettisoned. 

And that’s not all that’s being left behind. As the car’s engine barely ignites and Martin’s coupons struggle to cover the cost of food, it’s as if this small family were running on rapidly depleting fumes. America’s vast plains are a sight to behold, and in Omaha, their scale makes the family look lost among an endless emptiness. Other people are largely absent apart from those they encounter at gas stations. Being in the car is a private space, and that’s brought into stark focus at the film’s conclusion. This family could not be more lonely. 

Magaro is ingenious casting. Think of him in Past Lives or September 5 or The Mastermind. Across them all, he’s patient and understanding, rarely out of control, typically gentle. Here, he’s short tempered and his softness is a broken shell. He’s playing the minor key version of how we expect him. His friendly and disarming eyes instead show a man all out of answers and of places to turn. In one motel along the way, Ella overhears her dad repeating, ‘tell me what to do’, to no one in particular. Instead of calming, Magaro’s trademark quietness only amplifies the kids’ anxieties, and ours along with them. 

Although short, Omaha is agonising. If Martin’s anguish wasn’t enough, the forlorn score – heartbreaking acoustic guitar that sounds as lonesome as dad, daughter, and son – and the hidden purpose behind the trip unsubtly suggest the car isn’t exactly headed for a happy new start. Only in the closing minutes does the meaning of it all become clear, and when it does, it’s a gut-punch. The end-slate that follows made me gasp. 

Director Cole Webley and writer Robert Machoian keep it from all being too much. Because most of Omaha is a mystery, they don’t provide too much time to dwell on its outcome. The car is full of love, and even at his most frustrating and distant, Martin stays sympathetic. Despite a constant sense of unease, you hope and you hope and you hope that whatever storm is coming can be weathered. 

Omaha is worthy of its weighty sorrow. It is beautiful like a fading polaroid and searingly human in its depiction of hurt that appears beyond repair. Just prepare for its final moments to linger long after it’s over. 

Omaha will be released in theatres in New York on April 24, 2026 and nationwide in May 2026.