Float 2024

Young Taiwanese-American Waverly Liu Andrea Bang is frustrated with her parents for changing their summer plan in Taipei from a Toronto internship to something closer to home. In a spontaneous decision, she heads to Holden, a small coastal town, to stay with her aunt — Rachel Chan Michelle Krusiec — who welcomes her with a breezy, no-fuss warmth. Holden feels different from the big cities Waverly knows: quieter, with the rhythm of the harbor and the locals’ easy camaraderie. The town’s cafe scene becomes a focal point, especially as the owner, Lena, greets her with an openness that makes Waverly feel seen in a way she hadn’t anticipated. Lena Rukiya Bernard is a pivotal presence in the town, someone who embodies the town’s generosity and the sense that family can be found in unexpected places.

On the street and along the dock, Waverly meets the people who form Holden’s everyday life. Blake Hamilton Robbie Amell is one of Lena’s neighbors and a lifeguard who keeps a protective eye on the teenagers around him. His presence is casual at first, a mix of humor and responsibility, especially when a scuffle with his sister Isabel—Sarah Desjardins Sarah Desjardins—unintentionally involves Waverly and sends her into the water. The incident rattles her enough to reveal how much she still carries the idea of home as a place she rarely feels she belongs to: her parents moved from Taipei to Chicago, then to Toronto on a switchback of plans, and she’s never quite settled into any one version of family.

Blake offers to teach Waverly to swim since she admits she has never learned, and the arrangement becomes the backbone of their growing connection. Their mornings unfold with lessons and small walks, interspersed with casual takeout runs and conversations that peel back layers of their histories. Blake shares that he has been his sister Isabel’s guardian since their parents died a decade ago—an explanation that helps Waverly understand the weight he carries. For her part, Waverly explains the shifting dream her parents impose—Toronto for a medical residency in the fall—and how that dream rarely feels like hers. In Holden, the idea of a future seems more negotiable, more capable of shifting with the weather and with the people who show up in your day.

As the days go by, Waverly’s sense of belonging in Holden deepens. She and Blake begin to see each other beyond the initial convenience of a lesson or a shared joke. They slip into a rhythm that feels both carefree and meaningful: affectionate glances, a kiss here and there, and moments of honest conversation that reveal their vulnerabilities. Waverly’s internal conflict—the pull between a planned, prestigious future and a present where someone she’s growing to care about might change everything—plays out in quiet, intimate ways. Blake explains the limits of his willingness to commit, given that she is leaving soon, and they decide to be friends for the time being. Yet the air between them hints at something more, something that refuses to be shelved by a calendar.

Meanwhile, Waverly begins to lean into the town’s ordinary pleasures: a new job at the cafe, the gentle rituals of morning beach walks, and a circle of friends who treat her as a family member in their own right. The town gathers for a baby shower in Lena and Van’s circle, a moment that blends joy with the practical demands of life—Lena’s water breaks and everyone converges toward the hospital. The urgent, tender energy of that ride to the hospital underscores the way Holden’s people support one another with a depth Waverly hadn’t expected. Throughout it all, Van Ghazal Azarbad remains a steady presence, balancing his role in Lena’s life with the realities of his sister Isabel’s fierce independence and the responsibilities that come with family.

The emotional arc intensifies as Waverly’s parents finally call, pressing her to move to Toronto as soon as they can. Blake’s response — pretending their relationship was only a summer fling — sets up a moment of doubt and desire that tests both of them. Waverly chooses to stay longer, convinced by Lena and the town’s warmth to continue building something here. The baby’s birth becomes a luminous, chaotic milestone that brings the community together in a way that highlights Holden’s sense of belonging: a place where people look out for each other and where intimate moments can unfold into life-changing choices.

When the day arrives for Waverly to return to Toronto, Blake’s sudden appearance shakes up the plan: he confesses that he loves her, and the vulnerability in that revelation redefines what they could be together. The confession reframes the earlier tension about time and distance, replacing it with a shared commitment to explore what they could have, even if the future remains uncertain. The two choose to navigate the unknown together, with Blake inviting Waverly to stay and see how their bond might grow beyond the summer that began as a lapse in plans. In this way, the story folds back on its core—family, place, and the possibility that a fresh, unplanned connection can become a home.

Throughout the film, Holden itself feels like a character: a small town with a big heart, where the shoreline and café chatter weave into the emotional texture of the story. The cast’s performances—anchored by Waverly’s tentative curiosity and Blake’s quiet devotion—create a narrative that’s intimate and reflective, inviting the audience to consider how choices about place, family, and love shape who we become. The movie doesn’t rush its revelations; instead, it leans into the slow-bloom beauty of ordinary days—the kind of days that can redefine a person’s sense of home.

In the end, what began as a detour from a rigid summer plan closes with a promise. Waverly’s stay in Holden extends into a possibility she hadn’t anticipated: a future where love, community, and the idea of “home” can be reimagined in a place that felt like a temporary stop at first. Blake’s willingness to share that vision—alongside Holden’s welcoming arms and the steadfast support of Lena, Van, Isabel, and the extended circle—offers a gentle, hopeful note that love can grow when two people are brave enough to lean into it, even when the last word isn’t fully written yet.