"You're not supposed to mourn someone before they die." Tusker (Stanley Tucci)
With early-onset dementia (never mentioned, just "the bloody thing," Tusker, a respected novelist, pretty much feels life closing in. His lover, Sam (Colin Firth, even more low-key than ever), a well-known pianist, is facing the inevitable with as much good-will toward the fates as is possible. Something grander about dementia is in this quiet, contemplative drama eclipsing even the success of Julianne Moore in "Still Alice" and Julie Christie in "Away From Her."
The vastness of the universe helps these two amateur astronomers cope by showing the smallness of lives and fates and the assimilation we experience after we leave this mortal coil. Like all of us, Sam wonders if even that cosmic salve can save him from his oncoming grief of loss: "Am I strong enough? Can I do it?"
In a motorhome touring England's grand Lake District, we observe from the back seat as two buddies in the front on maybe their last adventure exchanging good-natured barbs that fulfill my requirement for buddy banter from good road pictures to my own travels with close friends. When Tusker asks Sam how things are going, Sam replies, "It's fine for me." Only a long-time love could respond, "Liar." The minimalism belies a depth of the love and understanding. Nice.
Writer-director Harry Macqueen deftly arranges the climax of the road trip with a surprise birthday party Tasker arranges for Sam at Sam's relatives' country home. The abundance of love for the couple mitigates the slow-coming sorrow of inevitable loss to remind us that love is the antidote to sorrow and the source for joy at whatever time the universe calls us back:
"Thanks," says Sam. "For what?" replies Tusker. "This," responds Sam. That's enough said about quiet love as they travel like a supernova full of light and strength on the way out.
With early-onset dementia (never mentioned, just "the bloody thing," Tusker, a respected novelist, pretty much feels life closing in. His lover, Sam (Colin Firth, even more low-key than ever), a well-known pianist, is facing the inevitable with as much good-will toward the fates as is possible. Something grander about dementia is in this quiet, contemplative drama eclipsing even the success of Julianne Moore in "Still Alice" and Julie Christie in "Away From Her."
The vastness of the universe helps these two amateur astronomers cope by showing the smallness of lives and fates and the assimilation we experience after we leave this mortal coil. Like all of us, Sam wonders if even that cosmic salve can save him from his oncoming grief of loss: "Am I strong enough? Can I do it?"
In a motorhome touring England's grand Lake District, we observe from the back seat as two buddies in the front on maybe their last adventure exchanging good-natured barbs that fulfill my requirement for buddy banter from good road pictures to my own travels with close friends. When Tusker asks Sam how things are going, Sam replies, "It's fine for me." Only a long-time love could respond, "Liar." The minimalism belies a depth of the love and understanding. Nice.
Writer-director Harry Macqueen deftly arranges the climax of the road trip with a surprise birthday party Tasker arranges for Sam at Sam's relatives' country home. The abundance of love for the couple mitigates the slow-coming sorrow of inevitable loss to remind us that love is the antidote to sorrow and the source for joy at whatever time the universe calls us back:
"Thanks," says Sam. "For what?" replies Tusker. "This," responds Sam. That's enough said about quiet love as they travel like a supernova full of light and strength on the way out.