“We live in time – it holds us and molds us…ordinary, everyday time, which clocks and watches assure us passes regularly…it takes only the smallest pleasure or pain to teach us time’s malleability. Some emotions speed it up, others slow it down…until the eventual point when it really does go missing, never to return.” ― Julian Barnes, The Sense of an Ending
Come for the viral demon carousel horse, and stay for the heart-wrenchingly beautiful love story. We Live in Time (2024) knits together the stories of Almut, a flourishing restaurateur, and Tobias, a drifting divorced Weetabix salesman. Their meet-crash (the first in romantic dramedy history, perhaps?) leads to a decade-long saga of enduring love that persists through both the monotony and the drama that life contains. The story is woven in a nonlinear fashion, apropos of the title itself. The film frames the macrocosms and microcosms of time found in ordinary life with heartbreaking grace and intimacy. Life-defining events – career milestones, birth, and death – are boiled down to the small moments that make them up. We experience the long minutes of waiting and false alarms in childbirth, the long minutes of waiting and difficult conversations in death. The film’s magic lies in the little scenes within Almut and Tobias’ life. While the chaotic birth scene in the petrol station was an equally horrific and a beautiful testimony of the goodwill of humanity, it is eclipsed by the quietly touching scene in the bathtub during Almut’s labour, in which she and Tobias share a comically large pack of Jaffa Cakes that sit atop Almut’s pregnant belly. The instant is delicate, intimate, and ordinary; we view these characters in their real lives, intruding on their shared moment. Interludes such as this place the most importance on the smallest memories in one’s life. Time is shown in all different sizes, from Tobias’ stopwatch counting labour contractions to the looming countdown at the biennial chef championship, the Bocuse d’Or. Time intrudes into everyday conversations:
“Whether we like it or not, the clock is ticking.”
“What’s the rush?”
“Because I’m worried there’s a very distinct and real possibility that I am about to fall in love with you.”
Love is seen in its most desperate and revelatory moments; in its simplicity, served alongside eggs at breakfast; and in carefully choreographed and well-placed scenes of intimacy.
In the hands of another production, Almut could have easily fallen into the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trap, dancing into Tobias’ doldrum life with her funky hair, spectacular omelets, casual bisexuality, and resolutely independent charm. Florence Pugh obstinately refuses that categorization, bringing incredible life and depth to the character. Almut is not defined by her relationship with Tobias – she has a deep history, defined goals, and is marked by her ambition and drive. Pugh grounds Almut’s headstrong spirit, however, allowing her equal moments of vulnerability and strength. The film’s central question of quality over quantity of time is most apparent in Almut’s recurrent battle with ovarian cancer, which she must face while attempting to balance her family and her career as a chef. Though she views her invitation to the Bocuse d’Or as the pinnacle of her culinary career, Almut’s competitiveness is backed not by selfish aims of obtaining money and fame, but by the desperate desire to leave behind a legacy that her daughter can be proud to claim.
It is, I believe, objectively impossible for Andrew Garfield to be anything less than the most charming and lovable character in any film he stars in, with We Live in Time being no exception. Tobias joins a long line of Endearingly Nerdy and Bashful Boys who Wear Glasses (joined by Neil Perry, Milo James Thatch, and, of course, Peter Parker). Divorced, living with his father, and working at Weetabix, Tobias meets Almut when he needs her most (as the story always goes). While Almut is defined by her career, Tobias is defined by his unabashed love. He goes all-in on the relationship, accidentally scaring Almut with questions about raising children far too early. As Tobias and Almut fall in love with each other, the audience cannot help but fall equally in love with the two of them.
Pugh and Garfield, as usual, wholly embody their characters in their signature modes of perfection. Pugh lends an earnestness and profound passion to Almut. Their shared love of food, particularly in how it creates connection and community, is a running theme throughout the film. Garfield embodies Tobias’ earnest love and devotion in an unobtrusive, yet firmly present manner, allowing Pugh to shine without getting lost in her shadow. However, at times, the characters felt slightly formulaic, with their traits and flaws feeling more like stock checklists for the audience to count on their fingers:
Tobias:
- Is organized, devoted to his lists, and most thoroughly a Virgo (he and I are twin souls in this sense).
- Has anger management issues and occasional violent bursts of passion.
- Prioritizes family over career ambitions.
- Wears glasses (this is a defining character trait of his).
Almut:
- Cooks (quite well).
- Fights against feeling tied down or limited.
- Defines her life success by her career achievements.
- Has cool hair.
The film’s culminating tension falls into the standard trope of frustrating miscommunication and concealment. Almut attempts to hide her participation in the Bocuse d’Or, the stress of which may interfere with her chemotherapy treatment. Tobias cannot fathom her prioritization of her career over their family. The discord between their ideas of a “successful life” leads to one of Tobias’ characteristic outbursts of anger and a dramatic fight that seems to be a requirement for all romance movies. The film avoids overbearing melodrama, however, offering quick resolution and a patched relationship that makes the ending all the more heartbreakingly tragic.
While the film is not as revolutionary and wheel-reinventing as, say, Aftersun (2022), it derives its charm and power from its ordinariness. The emotions evoked feel familiar, delivered in a frame of warm colour and comfort. The events witnessed (except, perhaps, the international cooking competition and the incredible speed at which Tobias healed after being run over by a car) are both joyfully and painfully common. Though a more dramatic and gut-punching sequence could have aided in the final impact of the film, the ending is quietly devastating: as Almut gracefully skates away from her family, the agony is felt in what is unsaid. The audience is nonetheless banded together in their grief, sharing sobs as the soundtrack plays to the rolling credits.
The Daily gives We Live in Time 4.25 out of 5 stars.