Pools, written and directed by Sam Hayes with a sensitive gaze and a pulsating rhythm, tells the story of Kennedy (Odessa A’zion), a college student on the verge of expulsion who chooses to run away instead of facing her problems. What begins as a night of rebellion—sneaking into luxurious backyard pools—quickly turns into an inner journey marked by pain, discovery, and emotional growth. Cinema has portrayed youth in countless ways, but Pools feels different. It’s directed with surprising maturity and freshness, offering a heartfelt, intimate look at that in-between space where we’re impulsive, lost, grieving, and desperate to belong. The film doesn’t try to glamorize youth—it captures it in all its messy beauty. Odessa A’zion delivers what might be her most magnetic performance yet. Her Kennedy is funny, foul-mouthed, constantly on the edge—but she’s also heartbreakingly real, her facade slowly crumbling under the weight of her father’s recent death.
A’zion carries that grief in subtle, nuanced ways: a vacant glance mid-laughter, an awkward silence after a joke, a quiet vulnerability when no one’s looking. It’s a performance that doesn’t scream—it just sits with you. Though the script leans on some familiar coming-of-age elements, it avoids clichés and instead builds its characters gradually, through organic dialogue and interactions that feel lived-in. The group of friends—initially drawn as familiar archetypes—reveal their own wounds and longings as the night unfolds. What could’ve been a lighthearted romp about reckless teens transforms into something deeper: a meditation on grief, connection, and the search for identity outside the expectations we inherit. Visually, Pools is stunning.
The cinematography plays with soft lighting and blue hues, creating a dreamy atmosphere that perfectly matches the characters’ emotional escapism. The shots of still, glowing pools—bodies floating like unspoken thoughts—serve as powerful metaphors for the emotional undercurrents the film navigates so gracefully. The soundtrack deserves its own praise. With an original score by Grammy-nominated pop artist Cody Fry, the music elevates every scene without overwhelming it. Tracks performed by Odessa A’zion herself add a raw, personal layer to Kennedy’s emotional journey—like whispered confessions in song form. Music supervision by Peymon Maskan (known for The Fallout, Monkey Man) brings a sharp, cohesive edge to the soundtrack, featuring artists like Grammy-nominated trio LionChld, electronic producer Lane 8, and the delightfully weird Thumpasaurus. The result is a soundscape that knows when to fade into the background and when to take center stage.
But maybe the most striking thing about Pools is its refusal to offer easy answers. By the end, Kennedy isn’t “fixed.” There’s no magical redemption, no tidy resolution. But there is a flicker of acceptance, a moment of quiet understanding—and that’s enough. The film seems to know that growing up isn’t about becoming whole, but learning to live with your missing pieces.
Yes, the third act loses a bit of narrative steam. Some resolutions come faster than they should. But oddly, that slight drop in energy only reinforces the film’s message: not everything has to be tied up in a bow. Not every dive has to hit the bottom. Sometimes, just floating is enough. In a landscape crowded with teen stories driven by formulas and surface-level drama, Pools stands out as something rare: honest, subtle, and surprisingly profound. It’s not just a coming-of-age story—it’s a quiet manifesto about the courage it takes to stop planning for a second, and just be.
