Conveying a sense of aimlessness in any kind of dramatic narrative is a double edged sword. Do it badly, and the story can be unengaging, do too good of a job, it can be seen as both unengaging and full of itself. That’s the big problem behind Endings, Beginnings, which is the latest film from filmmaker, Drake Doremus, who has been carving a niche for himself with romantic dramas since his 2011 breakthrough film, Like Crazy. His romance films are defined by the messiness of their characters, and the complicated, melancholic whirlwind of emotions that surround such a powerful force between the characters.

With Endings, Beginnings, we have a woman named Daphne (Shailene Woodley) taking the center stage. She has just gotten off a nasty breakup with a man she was with for four years, and is now stuck in arrested development. She quit her job, starts chain-smoking, moves into her sister’s guesthouse, and is taking an oath to avoid men and alcohol for six months. But because we have a movie, both those resolutions goes away when she is at a news years party where she meets two very handsome men.

One is the free-spirited Frank (Sebastian Stan), and the other is the sensitive and sensible Jack (Jamie Dornan). After the initial encounter, Daphne finds herself having off-and-on romantic entanglements with both. Both relationships offer something different for her, satisfy different emotional and physical needs, and she struggles to settle with one as she tries her best to get her life back together. And of course, complications arise, mistakes are made, hearts are broken, you know the deal.

Endings, Beginnings was a frustrating experience for me. There’s glimmers of excellence and poignancy and soulful filmmaking at numerous points throughout the film. However, Doremus and his co-writer, Jardine Libaire, come across as just as lost as their lead. Daphne is a troubled character in the most broadest sense, lacking the kind of intimate specificity that can touch on emotional truths that can connect to the audience. We never get a sense of what’s a stake for her, what exactly she wants, and how her relationships with these men shape those desires moving forward. I get in theory what’s being done here, but it isn’t dramatized in a way that works as a cohesive whole.

That isn’t to say there aren’t moments that really resonated with me. There most definitely are, especially considering the cast at play here. Woodley has always been an emotional powerhouse, and since she doesn’t appear in movies as much as she used to in that immediate post-Fault In Our Stars period, I like to treasure what we do get from her. She brings 100% to the material, even when that material is wonky, adding a layer of intense vulnerability that the film practically lives and dies on. Stan and Dornan are rock solid, even if the most they ever do is just look really good on camera, which I guess is good enough for a certain audience. I’m not complaining. Other supporting players like Lindsay Sloane and Kyra Sedgwick don’t get all that much to do, except provide the stock advice and words of wisdom to our lead.

That’s probably the biggest disappointment with Endings, Beginnings. It’s that so much of it feels stock and standard. There’s nothing particularly fresh here. The filmmaking is elegant and gorgeous, but it still can’t help but feel like another additional move taken straight from the book of Indie Romantic Drama™ filmmaking. The picture is full of hazy close-ups and over-the-shoulder shots, the music consists of sorrowful piano and a mix of eclectic-but-not-too-eclectic soundtrack that is begging for a vinyl release. It’s not that I didn’t like the movie at all. There are moments that I found very affecting, and the chemistry between Woodley, Stan, and Dornan are palpable. It’s hardly the worst way to spend a couple hours, but while the story demands to be raw, free flowing, and intimate, the overall effect is mostly tropey, mechanical, and distant.