We live in a time that demands too much of us: review

IIn movies, it’s always extremely happy people who die of cancer: people with loving spouses or partners, with sweet children who love them dearly, with jobs they’re reluctant to give up, and houses so comfortable that they… formally whispering, “Please don’t go.” That’s not necessarily a mistake—perhaps it’s more of a virtue, a way to remind those of us who not We have all these things (who among us really always has everything?) that make it worth holding on to, even in the imperfections of our lives. You imagine how you would feel if you suddenly knew you could lose everything, and your sense of gratitude blossoms. This is how films affect us. That’s why we keep giving ourselves to them.

Still, there are times when this capitulation is fraught with concern. John Crowley’s We live in time offers us a penetrating what-if situation: what if, after a recurrence of cancer, even though you know all too well the hellish treatments that await you, you simply decided to live your life to the fullest, to fully engage with your partner and reach out to him? A pinnacle of professional success you never thought you would achieve? That’s the choice Almut, played by Florence Pugh, made We live in time. Almut, in her late thirties, is the happy partner of Tobias (Andrew Garfield), with whom she has a child, Ella. She is a successful chef with a loyal staff, especially Lee Braithwaite’s Jade. She has built a warm, wonderful home for her little family – even though Tobias is an active, loving father, you somehow know that the welcoming atmosphere of her house is her work. At the beginning of the film, she learns that the ovarian cancer she was previously treated for has returned. This leads her to ask herself: How does she want to live? Does she want to deal with debilitating treatments again that may not even work? Or does she want to live to the fullest and enjoy her child, her partner, her life with every fiber of her being? Although Almut decides to continue the treatment, she also rushes forward to make the most of the remaining time. Unbeknownst to Tobias, she is taking part in a prestigious international cooking competition, even though the schedule will be grueling. Late in the film she explains why – but perhaps only after her decision has worn off us also below.

Read more: The 50 Best Romance Novels You Can Read Right Now

We live in time is supposed to get the waterworks going. At the promotional screening I attended, audience members were given packets of tissues, and the sniffling I heard in the room suggested they were needed. Whatever its faults, there are things in which the film is truly effective: on the one hand, Garfield and Pugh are extremely vital and engaging performers; The last thing you want for them is emotional torment. That’s how movies affect us: we know it’s not the actors who suffer, just their characters, but we still can’t stand it. Such beautiful, lovable people shouldn’t have to endure trauma like we do – but they remind us that no human being can escape it.

We need good melodramas, especially ones with built-in elements of romantic comedy, and I wanted to love them We live in time. But his cracks kept appearing. Crowley, director of the great 2015 adaptation by Colm Tòibin Brooklyn, has already worked with Garfield: the actor made his film debut in “Crowleys” in 2007. Boy A, about a young man who is released from prison after serving time for a violent crime he allegedly committed as a child. The script for We live in the time by Nick Payne (the creator and author of Wanderlust) tells the story of Almut and Tobias not linearly, but mixed.

Time flies: we learn about Almut’s second cancer diagnosis before learning about how she and Tobias got together. It turns out that Almut hit Tobias with her car – he’s obviously hurt, but not badly hurt – and she was so unwell that she stayed in the hospital to make sure he was okay. Tobias is an IT worker at Weetabix when we meet him, and although we know almost nothing about his work life, we learn a lot about Almut’s. She is a talented cook and understandably ambitious. She and Tobias cautiously begin dating. Things are going great until they aren’t. Tobias really wants children; Almut is non-binding. They argue, break up and make up. Almut is diagnosed with cancer for the first time. After her treatment, the two attempt to conceive a child – it takes a while, but eventually little Ella arrives and makes an unexpected appearance that is both triumphant and humble. It’s the funniest but also most nerve-wracking sequence in the film.

These snapshots of life are what work best in film. What’s harder to buy is Almut’s motivation for entering this competition. From course, A movie character diagnosed with cancer should follow his dreams! But little Ella feels like an afterthought to the film. There are very few scenes in which Almut interacts with her at all. Garfield has a few more, but not many. Making a film with child actors is expensive and complex. The real problem is that the film puts us in a position to judge some of Almut’s decisions. What moviegoer wants that responsibility? Almut’s motives – lying to Tobias about the cooking competition, which also means spending less time with her child – don’t ring true. The idea may be that you don’t necessarily have to like everything about a character, even if they have cancer. But the script weighs too heavily against Almut – especially when the person who hurts her the most is played by Garfield.

Whether Crowley intended it or not, most of the film’s emotional currents are channeled through Garfield’s face. When Almut says something particularly hurtful, we see bewilderment cross his brow; occasionally – perhaps not often enough – anger flashes in his eyes. Above all, his face conveys a delicate emotional complexity: the onset of sadness, the waiting for something to happen, the state of being in which you know – but cannot fully understand – that this is the person you love most I am moving away from you, and not voluntarily. As a performer, Pugh is both charming and sultry – her elegant, bratty portrayal of Amy March in Greta Gerwig’s film Little women was a spectacular achievement, bringing something fresh and authentic to a character many of us have known since childhood. But it’s Garfield who carries We live in time. If you end up needing those tissues, it might be because of him.