Walking out of Adam Carter Rehmeier’s Carolina Caroline at TIFF 2025, I could not help but think about the many films it borrows from, and the series of plot contrivances that keep its story in motion. Yet even with these issues, it stands as one of the most entertaining films of this year’s festival. This Americana-soaked tale of star-crossed criminals does not reinvent the wheel, but polishes it to a gleaming shine, turning familiarity into comfort rather than contempt. It crosses the finish line on the strength of its cast’s committed performances.
Carolina Caroline opens in medias res, with a glimpse of a woman fleeing a motel room in obvious distress—a moment that establishes both the destination and the mystery of how we arrive there. From this ominous beginning, Rehmeier rewinds three months to introduce Caroline, played with remarkable depth and sincerity by Samara Weaving, working a shift stocking shelves at a small-town Texas convenience store. When drifter Oliver (Kyle Gallner) enters and executes a fast change-swap con, Caroline does not just notice the deception—she tracks its logic with the instinct of someone who understands the game. That moment sets into motion a chain of events that will alter both their lives.
The script by Tom Dean (the same writer for Charlie Harper, also at this year’s festival), wisely takes time to establish the genuine affection between these characters before sending them on their inevitable crime spree. While it might have been tempting to hit the ground running, giving the audience space to understand who these people are, and what drives them, makes them feel fully human—and worth rooting for, even if happiness is unlikely. Oliver’s justification for petty theft is rooted in a Robin Hood-like morality: his victims, he argues, are faceless corporations and insurance companies, not hourly wage earners. This philosophy appeals to Caroline’s sense of justice, even as it masks the slippery slope they are about to descend.
Weaving commands the screen with a performance that evolves from small-town dreamer to seasoned criminal without losing the character’s essential humanity. Her Caroline is not as innocent as she appears, actively testing boundaries to escape a life that feels predetermined and suffocating. The actress captures both the exhilaration of newfound freedom and the growing weight of moral compromise with striking nuance, even if her accent occasionally slips.
“Carolina Caroline succeeds both as a showcase for its talented leads and as a meditation on love, choice and consequence in modern America.”
Gallner matches her intensity as Oliver, a character who could easily slip into caricature as the smooth-talking bad boy. Instead, the actor finds genuine vulnerability beneath the con man’s practiced charm. His Oliver truly loves Caroline, even as his increasingly desperate choices threaten to destroy them both. The chemistry between Weaving and Gallner feels lived-in and authentic, making their doomed romance affecting rather than merely tragic. These actors breathe chemistry into the film, giving its events greater impact, with the inevitable end feeling all the more predetermined and heartbreaking.
It is clear that Carolina Caroline borrows some of its visual language from 1970s crime cinema, particularly the sun-soaked highways and dusty motels that defined that era’s exploration of American lawlessness. Rehmeier and his team create a sense of place that feels both timeless and specific, with each location adding texture to the characters’ journey. The country soundtrack enhances this atmosphere without overwhelming it, providing emotional punctuation rather than manipulation.
As Caroline and Oliver’s crimes escalate from petty cons to bank robbery, the film maintains its focus on character development over action spectacle. Their methods remain relatively bloodless (Caroline even leaves a bag of money behind after one heist), but the psychological toll accumulates steadily. The script explores questions of identity and morality through Caroline’s search for her estranged mother, a quest that drives them toward South Carolina and an inevitable reckoning with the past.
Carolina Caroline could have easily chosen the safe route of vilifying its main characters, but instead, it presents them as flawed, immoral, yet ultimately human. That choice is to its strength. The sharp script asks whether Caroline and Oliver are “good people pretending to be bad, or bad people pretending to be good,” but offers no easy answers. Even after the events of the film, it is difficult to say for certain. Instead, the characters are shown as fundamentally human: flawed, loving, desperate and ultimately tragic figures caught in circumstances spiralling beyond their control.
Rehmeier’s direction maintains a steady pace that allows scenes to breathe without dragging. He understands that the power of the story lies not in plot twists but in emotional honesty. The film’s 105-minute runtime feels carefully calibrated, building toward a conclusion that is both inevitable and surprising. There are minor issues, including strange character choices that seem careless at times, especially given how well planned most of their acts are. But these flaws can be forgiven thanks to the atmosphere Carolina Caroline creates, which is ultimately what makes it such a strong entry in the genre.
While the film does not break new ground in the crime-romance genre, it delivers a strong entry anchored by some of the most honest performances I saw at this year’s TIFF. Carolina Caroline succeeds both as a showcase for its talented leads and as a meditation on love, choice and consequence in modern America. For audiences willing to embrace its familiar rhythms, Carolina Caroline offers the rare pleasure of a story told exactly as it should be, with all the highs and lows true love suffers, while remaining true to its characters in ways I did not expect.
