by Robert Bouffard, Editor
Before All of Us Strangers, Andrew Haigh directed three movies, two of which I’ve seen: Weekend and 45 Years. In their excellence, each of these movies is about a fairly specific topic. Weekend is a narrowly focused look at what it means to be queer, with all of the baggage that comes with identifying as such, and how it affects every little piece of a person’s life; 45 Years follows a couple in the days leading up to their 45th anniversary, exploring big ideas of life, experiences, and memory. All of Us Strangers combines those themes to make a grand statement about the nature of loss, love, and life. And it garnered as visceral and emotional a reaction out of me as any movie I’ve ever seen.
Based on the novel, Strangers, by Taichi Yamada, the film centers Andrew Scott’s Adam, a lonely screenwriter in London who takes supernatural trips back to his childhood home and visits with his parents (played by Claire Foy and Jamie Bell) just as they were when they died 30 years previously, when he was 12 years old. And as Adam begins visiting his parents, he also meets Harry (Paul Mescal), a neighbor from his newly built and sparsely populated apartment building. The beginning of their romance coincides with Adam’s new ability to come out to his parents and experience conversations he’d never been able to have with them before.
This could all easily be looked at as being too direct and on-the-nose, but Haigh and Scott — especially Scott — pack the story with so much earnestness that the schmaltziness actually enhances the overall experience. Akin to a film like About Time, the magic of Adam’s journey is a feature, not a bug. Despite how specific his situation is, the conversations between him and the other three leads are written so broadly that you can apply their musings on relationships and death to those you have with nonromantic partners, and the loss of someone other than your parents. The dialogue and content are so honest in their depiction, and they pull on your heartstrings so deftly, that they’re bound to hit home both for people who directly identify with the situation and people from totally different backgrounds and experiences.
All of Us Strangers had me thinking of the relationships I still have, and the things I want to say to those people before it’s too late, as well as those I no longer have, in which I wish I had the opportunity to say or experience things. And even as a heterosexual person who can’t relate to part of the core character drama that Adam goes through, the film had me thinking of my own journey of self-discovery, and how I’ve reconciled it with myself and with the people I am close to.
But again, none of this would be nearly as effective without Haigh’s direction. His use of warm colors and reflections, especially, deepen the visual meaning of each image. And it of course helps that he directs a quartet of incredible performances. If it isn’t clear by now, Scott gives one of the best performances of the year — he has the ability to simultaneously encapsulate a childlike and world-weary demeanor around his parents. He’s been great before in things like Sherlock and Fleabag, but All of Us Strangers is easily his best performance. Mescal, who I immediately bought season tickets to after seeing Aftersun, doesn’t get quite as much to do, and is more a vehicle for Adam’s depth. But he has an already patented level of intensity, depth, and empathy that he brings to all of his characters. Bell is tender and sweet as Adam’s dad, but Foy absolutely floored me. She has the love and warmth of a mother who doesn’t fully understand her son, but who loves him nonetheless. Her performance is extraordinary and heart wrenching.
All of Us Strangers is undeniably mushy, and perhaps even cheesy, but it grabbed me from the jump and held me all the way through to the end, where it literalizes the cosmic power of love. There’s nothing more special than a movie like this, which goes full on sincere and backs it up in its execution.
Rating: Loved It
All of Us Strangers is currently playing in theaters
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