
An achingly handcrafted, smart, swollen-with-feeling drama from playwright-turned-filmmaker Angus MacLachlan, A Little Prayer, starring David Strathairn and Jane Levy, is rooted in the rarefied rhythms of film festival programming; it premiered at Sundance in 2023, and didn’t see a digital VOD release until over two-and-a-half years later, in October 2025. This isn’t a pejorative so much as it is a simple statement of fact — the audience for this type of simple, tenderly told, slowly paced slice-of-life drama is, these days, fairly self-selecting. If viewers aren’t actively seeking out a work like this, based on a respect for its cast list, then there’s likely no review or word-of-mouth nudge that’s going to get them to bump it to the top of their viewing queue.
One of the bigger story elements here is a straightforward one (marital infidelity), seen in no shortage of other films. A Little Prayer, though, doesn’t trade in steamy illicit hookups or revenge or any other low-hanging-fruit plotting. Instead, it subtly explores the nuances of family dynamics, and how difficult wrenching disappointment with one’s children is to process as well as communicate. In addition to MacLachlan’s previous movies, the best comps to A Little Prayer, just in terms of cadence and intelligent indexing of family issues, are some of the films of Ramin Bahrani (Goodbye Solo, At Any Price, 99 Homes), not coincidentally a fellow native of Winston-Salem, North Carolina.
In 2005, MacLachlan’s screenwriting debut, Junebug, landed with a big splash, largely on the strength of a breakthrough performance from Amy Adams, who won a Special Dramatic Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival. For most critics, the movie was a revelation. For me, though, it was a prime example of a performance in search of a film that actually deserved its efforts. Helmed in languorous fashion by Phil Morrison, Junebug is the rare movie that manages to achieve complete authenticity of atypical setting, yet still somehow come across as unrealistic in almost all of its interpersonal interactions. The result felt less a compelling portrait of contemporary fractured Southern life in America, and more like an indistinct tone poem that falsely wore its down-dressed rhythms as profundity.
A Little Prayer, thankfully, is a very different story. For one, MacLachlan is a much more competent and confident director of his own material. After scripting 2010’s underrated Stone, he made his directorial debut with 2014’s Goodbye To All That, and also helmed 2017’s Abundant Acreage Available, experiences that no doubt taught him a lot and gifted him the ability to paint and control multiple layers of emotional response within a scene. These skills are reflected in the ambitious and deft manner in which A Little Prayer wraps its arms around the squirming abundance of feeling its characters possess. The result is something both recognizable and rare — a contemporary film that respects both its characters and its audience, and reflects the full messiness of life, where we not infrequently watch the disastrous choices of loved ones unfold with a combination of both duty to intervene and a strong desire to stay uninvolved.
Set in small-town North Carolina, the story centers on Bill (Strathairn), who runs a sheet metal factory with his son David (Will Pullen). Bill and his wife Venida (Celia Weston) live on the same lot as David and his wife Tammy (Levy), and so they see a lot of one another, even as Bill attempts to maintain some boundaries. When he discovers that his son might be having an affair with one of their employees, Narcedelia (Dascha Polanco), it puts Bill in a bind. When Bill and Venida’s daughter Patti (Anna Camp), herself trapped in the tumble-dry cycles of a dysfunctional relationship, shows up with kids in tow, it further complicates things.
The lesser film would throw all its weight and energy behind plot mechanics, and what Bill does with this secret, how and when he chooses to leverage the information (if at all). MacLachlan’s movie, pleasingly, is a more ambitious animal. It hones in on the strong interpersonal bond between Bill and Tammy — their shared nature, and appreciation for the same things in life. Thus, inherent decentness — both of these characters, and the performers embodying them — becomes in its own way a subject of focus and inquiry for the film. Sitting with and thinking about that, especially in these ugly times, is a rather power thing.
A Little Prayer comes to Blu-ray from Music Box Films in a clear plastic case, presented in 1.59:1 widescreen, with an English 5.1 DTS-HD master audio track, and optional English SDH subtitles. The aural demands of an unassuming title like this are pretty uncomplicated, and dialogue is clear throughout; hearteningly, though, there’s still room for the type of environmental atmospherics (chirring bugs, birds in the distance) that really help ground and root its setting. The title’s bonus features are undeniably anchored by an audio commentary track from MacLachlan that amply showcases his thoughtfulness and intelligence.
An “inside the arthouse” featurette with MacLachlan and Levy, hosted by Greg Laemmle, is a warm celebration of both A Little Prayer specifically and the craft of acting more broadly. There’s also a panel discussion from the movie’s presentation at EbertFest 2025, wherein MacLachlan talks in detail about wanting to explore issues of kinship and community in his work, and how blood relations don’t necessarily indicate maximal closeness. The film’s theatrical trailer and a photo gallery round out the supplemental material.
