Directed by Chandler Levack | Written by Jimmy Fowlie and Ceara O’Sullivan | 107 min | ▲▲▲ | Netflix

English Canadian cinema is having a bit of a moment, and you can tell by how much it’s being celebrated by Americans.

Let’s not kid ourselves, we get really excited when we get noticed by our friends to the south and even, sadly, measure our success by how much they like our work. And that’s not to suggest we haven’t been making excellent feature films lately, especially from under-represented voices — like the indigenous science fiction banger 40 Acres, or the Newfoundland queer drama Sweet Angel Baby.

But out here in one of the smaller provinces, I tend to be skeptical when some in the Toronto critterati lose their minds because a Canadian film gets American distribution, as when Neon picked up this overhyped comedy, or Criterion promotes a new voice in Canadian cinema.

You also can’t blame Canadian filmmakers for going where the work is. Who knows if their next film is going to be financed in Canada, where audiences for homegrown features tend to be ambivalent — every single writer-director I know in Nova Scotia is a hero for pursuing their passion for film while knowing there’s no way they can make a living here doing it full time.

This week talented critic-turned-filmmaker Chandler Levack has her solid second feature open wide in cinemas, a real achievement, at the same time as her third, Roommates, drops on Netflix. She told Eli Glasner on the CBC that she was editing Mile End Kicks when Adam Sandler called — he had seen her first picture, I Like Movies, and wanted Levack for a dorm comedy starring the Sandman’s daughter,  Sadie. Off went Levack to New Jersey to make this movie from a screenplay she didn’t write — her first studio picture.

The first thing to notice is Chandler brings her thoughtful direction to what could be an anonymous for-hire gig. These days it’s rare that an American comedy has any kind of visual flavour, and this one does — from a frat party lit by glowing frisbees to a dog’s weirdly throbbing asshole, Levack has put some thought into this thing, which lifts it above the ordinary.

Sadie is Devon, a teen from a wealthy family (her loving parents are played by Natasha Lyonne and Nick Kroll) who somehow got through high school without finding a friend. It’s hard to believe because she’s actually a totally normal, totally nice person — in fact, she’s a little dull. Off she goes to college orientation and meets Celeste (Chloe East), a sensational extrovert with dysfunctional family issues who takes a shine to Devon and they become roomies.

This turns out to be not a great fit for a lot of reasons that are more complicated than what you get in your average college comedy — touching upon heavier notes, from money to mental health to closeted identities, which makes it feel like there’s a more dangerous movie, even a thriller, trying to climb out of this one’s conventions.  It’s still a fun watch as the cracks in these besties’ relationship grow wider as you are asked to sympathize with one or the other, but the finale — while going places you won’t see coming — misses a trick by not reconciling the film’s key relationship, which makes a framing device supposedly delivering the film’s themes seem extra awkward. There’s also a touch of romance that never seems believable, even when it goes bad.

Still, Roommates offers a lot of incidental pleasures, not the least of which are terrific supporting performances from Sarah Sherman, Aidan Langford, Carol Kane, Steve Buscemi, Megan Thee Stallion, and the legendary Janeane Garofalo, who deserves a Winona Ryder-in-Stranger Things comeback of her own.

There’s no doubt Levack’s Canadian film is better than this one, and hopefully she won’t have to keep taking studio pictures in order to finance the movies she also writes, but full marks to her for delivering a Netflix flick that brings the entertainment required and more. I’d like to watch it with a director’s commentary heavy with details on the casting.