We Live in Time Is Dragged Down by Its Frustrating Pace

The following contains spoilers for We Live in Time.

It began when aspiring Bavarian-fusion chef Almut Brül (Florence Pugh) hit recent divorcé and cereal salesman Tobias Durant (Andrew Garfield) with her car. As the movie unfolded – from the change in their careers, their feelings towards family and children, and their own life paths – it seemed the couple had all the time in the world. That is, until a terrifying cancer diagnosis returns from remission. Now, it seems that Almut and Tobias don’t have much time left together. Looking back on their journey, they must come to a decision – should they risk treatment and spend a few short years hampered by disease and inaction? Or should they make the most of the little time they have left?

The product of BrtudioCanal, directed by Nick Crowley, written by Nick Payne, brought to the United States by A24 and starring Pugh and Garfield, We Live in Time brings back a time-honored tradition of wholesome – and heartbreaking – romantic dramas. A meditative piece on love, loss and the passage of time, We Live inTime is a slow burn of a film that embraces the mundanity of life, humanity, love and intimacy in the material, sensual world, warts and all.

We Live in Time’s Nonlinear Storytelling Will Test Audience’s Patience

The Movie’s Selling Point Is Also Its Worst Enemy

We Live in Time centers around one couple’s journey and the trajectory of their love and relationship. However, there is one central theme to this movie: time. From the film’s first ten minutes alone, it’s established that Almut and Tobias do not have much time left together. Almut, with her cancer diagnosis, knows that she is living on borrowed time. Almut’s first cancer scare spurs her and Tobias in a race against time not only for her to undergo treatment and reach admission, but later to have a child. The conception itself takes multiple tries. The ensuing birth is done in real time, to further emphasize time’s importance to everyone involved. Almut’s feats in the Bocuse d’Or, referred to as the Olympics for chefs, are a trial against the clock. In between these scenes, the movie shows how the couple first got to know each other, along with different stages of their relationship. To top it all off, everything is shown out of order.

With its in media res narrative, naturalistic dialogue, flat-footed and awkwardly endearing humor and distinct aesthetic trappings, We Live in Time evokes a certain subgenre and seemingly bygone era of romance films. In particular, the heady and whimsical deconstructions of the late 2000s and early 2010s.Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and 500 Days of Summer certainly spring to mind, with their thematically upfront and intellectually-driven discussions about love and relationships. Giving these movies their distinct identity was how they were filtered through a hipster lens and told out of order rather than following any conventional form of storytelling. These signaled, both explicitly and otherwise, to viewers that the end was nigh for the focal lovers.

Audiences already know from the start how things will end for Almut and Tobias. The movie does have that vibe to it, but We Live in Time forgoes the stylized whimsy and glib bleakness for something just as profound and tragic, but more grounded and perhaps a little gentler and less heady. The world of this film is sensual, earthy and tactile. The art direction transforms urban and rural England into a comfortable tapestry of cozy textures, forest colors and earth tones. Even the grimiest of settings – a petrol station bathroom, for example – becomes a sanctuary of something that is sacred, gross, hilarious, nasty and heartwarming all at once.

We Live in Time promotes sensation over thought. This emphasis on sensuality, tactility and the tangible world – a place where food, sex, nature and touch are the highest expressions of love, life and happiness – further pushes the story’s theme of time, the awareness of it, and living in the moment, as opposed to the worrying about the future or wallowing in the past. This is both this film’s strength and its weakness. It hyper-fixates on the most ordinary aspects of life, and drags them out to their logical conclusion. We Live in Time may be about the passage and loss of time, but as a movie, it certainly takes its sweet time telling its rather unsophisticated and simple story.

Sex scenes, Almut’s training for the Bocuse d’Or, the incredibly uncomfortable moments when the couple butt heads take a very long time to finish — perhaps too long — and it’s hard not to notice. The movie almost draws attention to itself with how long its scenes take to conclude, how much it over-emphasizes the characters’ faltering conversations, intercourse, and in Almut’s case, her physical decline. We Live in Time asks a lot of its audience in terms of patience, especially given the unfair stigma against so-called “weepy” romances. That said, the emotional payoff, especially following the climax and its heartwrenching resolution, are worth it, even if it does mean the drenching of a tissue or two.

We Live in Time uses its out-of-sync narrative relatively well. Never at any point are the emotions in this film, subtle as they are, forced or out of place. Even when told out of linear order, the most important events and feelings in Almut’s and Tobias’ relationship retain their authenticity. However, this isn’t to say that the execution is foolproof. Out -of-order storytelling is tricky, even when masterfully done. Unlike the more comedic examples, such as Pulp Fiction or more self-aware titles such as 500 Days of Summer, We Live in Time plays its nonlinear narrative seriously, without cue cards to help distinguish past from present. The past and present bleed into one another without warning, creating a dizzying tapestry of the mundane. This can be jarring to many viewers. It’s also difficult to tell where the present day starts and the past begins, making it difficult to follow what would otherwise be a very simple and straightforward story. In fact, without this unconventional narrative structure, We Live in Time would be – and is – as ordinary as romantic movie as one can find.

We Live in Time’s Derivative Story Is Elevated by Andrew Garfield’s & Florence Pugh’s Chemistry

The Movie’s Mundanity Lets Its Love Team Shine

One might think that We Live in Time’s simple, straightforward and rather banal story – especially in the current media landscape dominated by surreal horror and grandiose spectacle – would be a major drawback. Even with its extremely real and heartwrenching subject, the movie is as uneventful as any slice-of-life movie made before and after its time. But this isn’t to say that it’s bad. On the contrary, romantic movies are some of the best windows into the human condition. Dynamics between couples – especially ones as endearing as Garfield’s delightfully awkward Tobias and Pugh’s gruff, deadpan Almut – reveal a lot about the foibles and fortitude of humanity, and how, as people, we relate to and even bring the best – and worst – out of one another. The earthy banality of We Live in Time is its greatest strength.

Garfield and Pugh have some of the realest chemistry seen in romance films. For a movie that goes out of its way to make things as unglamorous and embarrassing as possible, We Live in Time certainly does make the most gross and boring elements of real life feel romantic. Audiences are treated to down-to-earth and unsensationalized sex, pregnancy tests, trips to the toilet, naked or half-naked bodies in less-than-fashionable contexts, and, of course, a live birth in the world’s most inconvenient and unromantic place. None of these diminish Garfield and Pugh’s chemistry.

If anything, the normality of it all emphasizes their stellar dynamic. Yes, there is a degree of actual romanticization here, especially with the art direction and the characters’ social brackets. However, given what these characters go through – Tobias lives with his father in a slipshod room while he’s undergoing his divorce, not to mention the universally terrifying premise of a loved one slowly dying, and raising a young child alone as a widow – their successes and comforts feel earned.

We Live in Time’s Art Direction Complements Its Story & Emotions

The Movie’s Cinematography, Colors and Visuals Set the Mood

This feeling of earthbound groundedness is present throughout every frame and second of We Live in Time. The focus on food is a big part of this emphasis on comfort and sensuality. Almut is an ambitious chef. Her Bavarian fusion cuisine and her love of fresh ingredients plays into her appeal and her ultimate need to mark her legacy in the climax. Tobias’s banal job as a Wheatabix salesman – a brand of processed cereal popular in the United Kingdom – both contrasts Almut’s more natural approach, and becomes the launch point of their relationship. They bond over farmer’s markets, outdoor fruit and vegetable stands, cooking together and learning to crack eggs the proper way (against a flat surface, of course). The food motifs pair well with the equally sensual sequences of sex, intimacy and even childbirth.

As Almut and Tobias become closer and more comfortable with one another, they don more browns, tans and greens, until they are officially a loving couple and a united front of Earth tones. The movie’s art direction evokes softness, comfort and nature, even in its darkest, nastiest or unpleasant moments. The lighting is gentle and warm-toned, bringing out the highlights in the taupes, browns, tans and greens of Almut and Tobias’s happiest spaces. The infamous English winters, fog and rain look almost inviting, with the green tones popping on screen. When Almut’s health declines and when Tobias’s stress worsens, the warm tints are leeched out, making things look duller and lifeless. In contrast, during the couple’s happiest or most determined moments, the world is a kaleidoscope of golden lights or earthen textures.

One of We Live in Time’s most beautiful sequences involves the couple joyfully spending their evening in a glowing amusement park, with swing rides and merry-go-rounds awash – and, of course, a certain funny horse. The idyllic pastoral home where they raise their child among chickens and grass looks as if it were pulled straight from a vintage Scandinavian Modern catalog, even against gray or gloomy skies. It’s these inviting spaces that capture the natural growth and intimacy of this couple. And, fittingly, this very same place of comfort breaks the floodgates and sends the tears flowing in the final minutes.

We Live in Time’s Heart & Sincerity Overcome Its Shortcomings

The Movie More Than Makes up for Its Slow Pace and Familiarity

We Live in Time does play into some familiar romance tropes. There’s a remarkably contrived and hilariously painful “meet cute” in the form of a car crash, the male lead is just coming off a bad relationship, and there is a make-up-break-up scenario early on. Anyone who’s seen enough romantic movies will know these beats by heart. However, the movie then veers away from the common (and current) bane of not just the romantic genre, but many movies in general: sensationalism. In avoiding saccharine joy and overwrought histrionics, We Live in Time justifies its reputation as an emotional, tear-jerking kitchen-sink romance. The topic of cancer, biological clocks and unrealized dreams are all touching and painful, and are treated with respect here.

It would have been very easy for writer Nick Payne to push the emotions further into melodrama, and have We Live in Time become a storm of screams and tears and misunderstandings. After all, this is a trend that a lot of recent films used to heighten their drama and trauma for the sake of “realism,” or, more accurately, for drama’s sake. While there are a couple of scenes that skirt this display of unbridled feeling and passion, even at its most overblown and painful, We Live in Time remains subtle and nuanced. Audiences aren’t told what to feel, so when the time comes for the movie to break hearts, it does so quite effectively.

It helps that the characters, especially Almut and Tobias, are so likable precisely because they’re so imperfect. They are both incredibly flawed. They both have their share of unflattering, foolish moments. They both make valid points even at their lowest. Most of the time, however, they are one of the most likable couples on screen. Terminal illness aside, it’s a treat to see this couple clumsily stumble their way through poor parking jobs, painful natural birth and grand days out to the museum.

Pugh and Garfield clearly love their roles and love playing against each other, especially as they trade the most gloriously English, wry, dry and deadpan dialogue put to screen. This is a welcome bit of realism and levity to a film with such a tragic premise. Audiences can’t help but root for Almut and Tobias, even as time is not on their side, and even when they do things that can be selfish and uncommunicative. Their sense of humor and joy is infectious, even at their most sarcastic, gross and gauche – audiences will be chuckling with them until their time together runs out.

We Live in Time does ask a lot of its audience. It has a narrative that, without its fancy in media res device, is as cut-and-dried as it gets. Said storytelling device can also make for a disorienting and frustrating experience. However, We Live in Time has a lot of heart to give. The movie features one of the most adorable couples seen in film, and its bittersweet, earthly depiction of life’s little joys and sorrows is genuinely poignant. If one has the patience and is willing to shed a tear or two, they will find that watching We Live in Time is time well spent.

We Live In Time is now showing in theaters.