But I’ll never stop dreaming of you
every night of my life, no way
But I would do anything for love
But I won’t do that
Oh, I won’t do that– “I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That)” by Meat Loaf
When the Jim Steinman-written Meat Loaf-sung “I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That)” released in 1993, the lead single for Meat’s sixth album, Bat Out of Hell II: Back into Hell, it posited a list of things that the singer would do for love. Out of all the things listed, such as “I’ll never stop dreaming of you every night of my life” or “I’ll never forget the way you feel right now,” the power ballad that rocked radios never includes self-awakenings. It’s all grand gestures and declarations of eternity (someone never got to the third act of “Paradise,” it seems) and no thought of the self. Written, directed, and starring Ellie Sachs, Lucy Schulman, having its world premiere in the U.S. Narrative Competition section of Tribeca Film Festival 2026, is a rom-com that shifts the conversation away from what the storybooks and songs tell us love is and challenges us to look within at where love must grow before it can be shared.
Upon discovering that her novelist boyfriend, Nikhil (Hasan Minhaj), is cheating on her, Lucy Schulman (Sachs) moves back home to her dad, Peter’s (David Cross), apartment as she gets her feet back under her. Between going back home, her best friend’s upcoming wedding, and jumping back into the dating scene, Lucy finds herself questioning what matters, what pushes her forward, and, most importantly, what may be holding her back.
L-R: Ellie Sachs as Lucy and Hasan Minhaj as Nikhil in LUCY SCHULMAN. Photo Credit: Barton Cortright. Photo courtesy of Tigresa.
Though the first feature for Sachs, Lucy Schulman is by no means her first project. Writer and director of short Proof of Concept (2023) and mini-series Ad World (2025), Sachs is an assured creative who demonstrates, alongside editors Kate Pedatella (Broad City; Proof of Concept) and Henry Hayes (Cha Cha Real Smooth; Couples Weekend), how to craft a story that entertains regardless of the choices made before us. Using an introduction that melds present-day narration with a flashback, Sachs quickly and easily establishes what matters most in Lucy’s life, the foundation on which all the choices we see and all their consequences that follow are based, so that when we get to the expected initial heartache, it’s a smooth transition so that the film can rocket from there. Metaphors aside, we, the audience, need to understand very quickly that, for Lucy, her father is the most important thing, not because she’s a “daddy’s girl,” but because the two have only really had each other. Rather than establish some kind of toxic relationship, the film demonstrates how it’s affirming and supportive, making all the decisions Lucy makes less about unexplored or unconfronted trauma (this is a light rom-com, not a family drama), and more about how she views herself in relation to others. While there’s certainly an essay or two that could be written about the relationship between Peter and Lucy, for the purposes here, what’s worth pointing out is how refreshing it is in terms of support and closeness. In fact, Sachs has written a character for Cross (who is excellent through and through as Peter) that adds him to the list of awesome rom-com dads, which includes Larry Miller’s Walter Stratford from 10 Things I Hate About You (1999) and Stanley Tucci’s Dill from Easy A (2010). Unexpectedly, the characters are harmonious to a fault, going on almost parrel journeys, separated by their disparate lived experience aiding in one’s ability to make different choices than the other. This choice, to see them as two sides, is what creates the most resonance in the film.
Being a rom-com, Lucy Schulman sets itself up with the usual rises and falls of romance. It’s got short-term dating jokes (including an appearance from Ad World’s Kareem Rahma), older singles jokes, younger singles jokes, and representation of meet-cutes vs. dating apps. Unlike other rom-coms which tend to use the concept of coupling to say something about love within the context of when it was made, Sachs uses it to explore Lucy and what it means to be her. The absence of generality is both refreshing and inviting as this kind of specificity can (strangely) become a universal story as a result. Especially in the way that Sachs purposefully throws us into this world, treating us as just another part of her life and only using narration when absolutely necessary, we find ourselves looking at Lucy’s journey through her perspective, though Sachs makes a point to show us things that Lucy isn’t aware enough of to see, making us a few steps ahead of where Lucy goes (complimentary). This choice by Sachs ensures that we never forget that, for all the romance in the film (discussed or shown), there’s only one love that truly matters, and it’s that revelation that makes Lucy Schulman a journey worth taking.
L-R: David Cross as Peter Schulman and Ellie Sachs as Lucy in LUCY SCHULMAN. Photo Credit: Barton Cortright. Photo courtesy of Tribeca Film Festival.
The frustrating element of the film is a major component of it, making it seem more like a feature by-product than a bug. Sachs smartly drops us into the story, using character narration from Lucy to set the tone and fill in the occasional gap, but, typically, using in-world knowledge to engage with each character. It’s a fascinating choice, for instance, to hide so much of who Lucy is from the audience until quite late into the film, offering tidbits of her personal background that better explain her professional experience and, thus, why she does what she does with Nikhil at the start of the film, as well as her understanding of the book world as a self-described “mere party planner” for the upscale bookstore she works in. As a feature, this choice to bury information that the characters have and we don’t creates an expectation within the audience that must get shattered, similar to yet different from Lucy herself in her journey. Typically, rom-coms put all their cards forward with what it is that the lead wants or desires personally and professionally, but, here, Sachs purposefully hides this from us, making some of the conflicts that occur require a recalibration on our part late into the film. This is a fascinating choice in the sense that it breaks an established convention and, for her part as creator/actor, boldly ensures that our protagonist isn’t always the grand lead one expects from a rom-com. The part of it that forces a bit of stalling in audience engagement is that *because* we are always on the back foot compared to the in-world figures, there are details missing which make it difficult to engage as the film wants us to. For instance, upon meeting Lucy’s best friend, Eden (Annabelle Attanasio), we’re meant to believe that these two have been friends for ages, yet the blocking isn’t indicative of this. Lucy faces toward the audience (the camera maintaining focus on her) while Eden is perpendicular. The dialogue between them tells us that they’re close, but there’s no real sensation of this, which is odd since it’s their first meeting since Eden got engaged. Part of this may be to highlight how absent Lucy is in other parts of her life at this point in the film, but when so much hinges on their relationship as we moved forward through the film, the lack of apparent intimacy is odd and distancing. Even when their other “closeknit” friends appear, each one seems more a type of person than a realized individual, making the relationship between Lucy and Eden stand out further as facsimile instead of as actualized as the Lucy-Peter relationship or the ones we see Lucy attempt to develop in the film. Again, this may be a by-product of grounding Lucy as insular, but when combined with holding off on details about her interests and desires, it diminishes the emotional heft of the journey before us that is, otherwise, low stakes and joyful.
Anchored by Cross and Sachs, Lucy Schulman is a dynamic and breezy cinematic treat. It doesn’t dare speak down to its audience, trusting them to get Lucy’s pitfalls as each one presents differently than most rom-coms would present them. It also speaks to the types of love that audiences are often sold in which grand gestures, selfless acts, and reduction are the only true means by which to convey one’s affection integrity. If you will, what Sachs conveys through Lucy Schulman is that there are some things we can and can’t do for love or, more accurately, what we should and shouldn’t.
Screened during Tribeca Film Festival 2026.
For more information, head to the official Tribeca Film Festival Lucy Schulman webpage.
Final Score: 3.5 out of 5.
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Categories: In Theaters, Reviews
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