Anyone up for a triple-hanky tearjerker may find what they’re looking for in We Live in Time (now streaming on Max), the occasionally funny, more than occasionally weepy cancer romance starring Florence Pugh and Andrew Garfield. Cute couple? Absolutely. Maybe THE CUTEST. Cute movie, too? Yeah, definitely, for sure, maybe to a fault, since it’s one’a them, y’know, nonlinear narratives, although I’m not quite sure why this one Billy Pilgrims our protags as they live-laugh-love their way through the raucous emotional rollercoaster known as life. John Crowley directs, and that’s encouraging even beyond the strength of his two leads, considering his Oscar-nominated drama Brooklyn was inarguably one of the best films of 2015. The same can’t be said for this one, but it’s not without its charms.
The Gist: ALMUT (Pugh) AND TOBIAS (Garfield) HAVE BECOME UNSTUCK IN TIME. For some reason. They aren’t aware of it like Billy Pilgrim is, but we are, and we soon learn that we have to Pay Attention To Florence Pugh’s Hairstyles to understand where we are. Hint: When Florence Pugh has bangs, we’re at the beginning of the story; no bangs, the middle; hair shaved off, the end. But the movie opens in the no-bangs middle, as Almut goes for a run, stops to smell the flowers and pick some herbs, then jogs back to the impossibly adorable English-countryside cottage where she lives with partner Tobias. She whips up an egg parfait for him, and wakes him by all but stuffing spoonfuls of it in his mouth. Then we jump to an impossibly cute moment when she’s suuuuper pregnant and bouncing on an exerball to help with the contractions as Tobias feeds her eggs this time. They’re sooooooo gooooooood, the eggs.
Now we’re back to a no-bangs period. Almut is a chef, as in a YES CHEF type chef, very high end, who owns her own restaurant. She’s whipping up a gel or a drizzle or something when zap she’s hit with abdominal pain. Cut to the oncologist’s office. She and Tobias sit and listen as the doctor says her cancer is back and she’s looking at chemo, then surgery, then more chemo, and even then, she might only have a year to live. She proposes skipping the treatment to have six amazing months instead of 12 months of feeling weak and ill, and this is when we notice that Andrew Garfield spends almost the entire movie looking like he’s on the precipice of tears. Eyes always glassy. Soft anguish lines on his forehead. Mouth stretched into a smile that’s about to shatter into a million pieces. God dammit. This movie. God dammit.
Now Tobias lives in a tiny room with a tiny bed in a house with his sweetheart of a father, Reginald (Douglas Hodge). He has to travel for his job as an IT guy at Weetabix and finds himself in a depressing hotel room in a robe trying to find a pen that works so he can sign his divorce papers. No luck. He plods to a nearby convenience store for a pen and some junk food and on the way back he mindlessly wanders into the road and BAM he’s hit by a car. He awakens in the hospital in a neck brace and across from him is Almut. Bangs? Yes. Bangs. This is their meet-cute – she nearly killed him. They grab a bite at a nearby diner and chat, and he does that kind of irresistible ’90s Hugh Grant stammering thing. Destiny is afoot. Afoot as hell.
Now Almut (no bangs) and Tobias sit in a different restaurant with a little girl across from them. She’s Ella (Grace Delaney), their offspring. Is she cute? Impossibly. They’re trying to tell her that mommy has been feeling sick. Later that evening, they’re back at the cottage and winding down and Almut suggests they have some sex before the treatment makes her feel too yucky to be sexy. So they have sex! Back to bangs: Tobias visits Almut at her newly opened restaurant, which is when she learns he’s divorced and her eyes widen. They’re tumbling in the love-dryer. They have a difficult discussion about having children – she doesn’t want to and he does. It ends poorly.
Now they’re out in the cottage yard with Ella, shaving mom’s head. Now they’re rushing to the hospital so Almut can give birth, but traffic is jammed and she huffs and puffs to a nearby convenience store to use the loo. Now her head is shaved and she’s prepping for the Bocuse d’Or chef competition. Now they’re dealing with her first cancer diagnosis. Now they’re at dinner with her family and his dad, all meeting for the first time. Now they’re in a trying-to-get-pregnant montage. And now we’re not lost, but wondering why the movie makes us do this when all it really seems to want to do is hammer away at your vulnerable emotional-mush zones.
What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Well, it’s not exactly Memento. About Time had a similarly pseudo-profound, Very British sensibility to it, but is about a dude who’s actually traveling through time.
Performance Worth Watching: Without the electricity between Pugh and Garfield, this movie would be DOA. They’re movie stars doing a movie star thing: Making ordinary material a little less ordinary.
Memorable Dialogue: “You must be really regular.” – Almut, upon finding out Tobias works for Weetabix
Sex and Skin: Lots of it! Tops and rears, bedroom and bath-taking and birth-giving scenes.
Our Take: Again, it’s easy to get hung up on the why of We Live in Time’s unusual structure. It’s not difficult to follow – once you suss out the Pugh Hair Cues, it’s a snap. Perhaps it reflects the fractured nature of memory; perhaps it’s taking a stab at a philosophical rumination on the linear passage of time. Neither intellectual analysis holds together particularly well, so it might be an intuitive and emotional approach to telling the story, although that runs between the fingers like… something. SANDS THROUGH THE HOURGLASS, maybe. I’m also tempted to say the film delivered tight ‘n’ straight would be a far too conventional weepy romance, so Crowley and screenwriter Nick Payne chopped it up to make it more interesting, but that’s too cynical for a movie that nurtures the strength of its leads and uses their charisma to worm their way into our hearts.
Pondering these potentials leads one to believe that the decision to jump around nigh-willy-nilly – nigh, I says, nigh – simply allows for a more playful and energetic film, cutting happy times into sad times to remind us that the weight of hardship is always temporary, or to bait-and-switch us with plot developments that seem to point east when they’re actually pointing west. I feel like an apologist for a narrative that’s most likely a tad underdeveloped. But it works on that level, as a gentle puzzle movie that prompts us to pay attention and feel invested in the viewing experience, especially in an era where it’s nigh-socially acceptable – nigh, I says, nigh – to half-watch movies while scrolling through our phones.
We Live in Time offers its share of hurdles for Pugh and Garfield to leap, e.g., all that heavily manufactured too-cuteness, the likes of which might torpedo a film with less-talented leads. They handle the romanto-melodramedy well, whether it’s a smoldering makeout session, a thorny discussion of their future as a couple, a sad discussion of their cancer-stricken future as parents or a tender moment in the tub with an achingly pregnant Almut. Our brave leads even show enough oomph to work through a thoroughly ridiculous birth scene in a gas station bathroom – such is the might of the talent here, who find a way to find depth and emotional complexity in even the silliest scenes. The ending may not be as cathartic as those looking for a good cleansing bawl might hope, but generally, this damn thing is good at setting its hooks and squeezing a few salty ones out.
Our Call: There are far worse things than watching Pugh and Garfield kiss and cry for 100-odd minutes. They’re good, maybe even better than We Live in Time ultimately deserves. STREAM IT and weep.
John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
