Effective, affective and a bit overpraised, writer/director Andrew Haigh, working from a piece by Taichi Yamada, charts a fast-evolving/erotically-charged affair between two men, apparently the only tenants in their large apartment complex. The main interest lies in the surprising gap between what might be called Generation Gay, sadder but wiser forty-something Andrew Scott*; and Generation Queer, late twenty-something, demonstrative Paul Mescal. A cultural shift in attitude that doesn’t put a wall between them, but moves the relationship toward bridge building. As in a noisy club scene, where expectations of rupture instead only deepen excitement. But Haigh proves more concerned with relations between the living and the dead; specifically the need for emotional closure for Scott. An unfulfilled screenwriter, his current project (if it is a project) has him visiting his childhood home for conversations with the parents he lost when he was an unhappy twelve year old. The parents, now younger than he is, appear corporal, interacting with him as he is now, the gay adult man he grew up to be. Played self-consciously in hushed tones, the fantasy relationship tender, touching and rather sentimental. (Asked about his life after they died, there’s a superb line for Scott, noting how he hid his true self at school to keep from being bullied: ‘I made sure I did.’) And at the end, we discover Mescal has his own ‘Mommy issues.’ Now we’ve jumped five generations back! Very ‘40s Freudian.* Missteps and all, it’s well acted (Claire Foy & Jamie Bell play the parents) and involving.
ATTENTION MUST BE PAID: *Scott’s recent roles have called on him to buff up a bit, but the real change is in the contours of his face. As if at 48, he suddenly acquired the look of a movie star.
SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: *The influence of 1940s memory piece plays very strong here. On purpose?
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