Weekend Watch - All of Us Strangers
Welcome back to the Weekend Watch where each week we take a look at a new piece of film or television media and give it a rating, review, and recommendation. This week’s topic, as voted by the blog’s Instagram followers, is the BAFTA-nominated film from Andrew Haigh that finally got a theatrical release at a theater within feasible driving distance of my house this weekend – All of Us Strangers. The film, adapted from Taichi Yamada’s novel Strangers, stars Andrew Scott, Paul Mescal, Jamie Bell, and Claire Foy in a story about a lonely screenwriter (Scott) whose work on a script based on his own adolescent tragedy leads him back to his childhood home where his deceased parents (Bell and Foy) are seemingly still alive, while he also starts to open himself up to a relationship with a fellow tenant (Mescal) at his supremely vacant apartment complex. The intimate and mind-bending film has already received six BAFTA nominations, a Golden Globe nomination, and a Critics Choice Award nomination. Let’s get into it.
Letter Grade: A; this film meets and exceeds expectations at almost every level.
Should you Watch This Film? Yes, assuming that it’s playing in your area and you’re allowed/able to go see R-rated films.
Why?
All of Us Strangers does, in fact, live up to the expectations that I have had about it. It delivers a beautifully acted, emotional, engaging, well-shot, mentally stimulating, and intimate look at grief, love, memory, family, and the universal human need for connection and intimacy. On the one hand, it offers a devastating portrayal of loneliness and its consequences when left unchecked, but on the other, it presents the audience with the beautiful nature of the alternative – opening yourself up to being vulnerable with others who might be able to love you (platonically, paternally, romantically, or any other way) and whom you might love in return. Andrew Haigh’s adaptation of Yamada’s novel takes the premise of what I understand to be a fantasy/romance/mystery/horror-lite story (based on the plot synopses I’ve read) whose focus is on letting go of past hurts and loss so that you can connect with your present and twists it into something that lacks a bit of that horror element but that leans hard into the other aspects to tell a story of opening up despite past hurts because of the need that everyone has for connection. Add to that adaptation the four excellent performances from Scott, Mescal, Bell, and Foy, and you’ve got yourself a modern masterpiece of film.
I think that there exists a problematic and simplistic reading of this film as a purely LGBTQ+ story about how, in fact, being non-cis non-het is inherently isolating to the point of total despair. Adam (Scott) consistently describes himself as lonely, even from childhood before the deaths of his parents, and attributes that loneliness to his sense of feeling different and his fear of being judged and/or ostracized by his peers and his parents for being gay. Likewise, Harry (Mescal) talks about his lack of contact with his family once he told them about his sexuality being an operating factor in his own loneliness and isolation. I think, though, that reading such an interpretation – “the gays are lonely and sad” – into this film is reductive and dismissive of what Haigh (and the cast) are actually trying to accomplish. Their isolation doesn’t stem from their sexuality; it stems from the sense of rejection that they chose to latch onto, that society continues to push everyone toward. This fear of potentially being hurt by others because someone did once hurt you or someone like you seems to permeate modern society and relationships, from children to work environments to families to romantic partnerships to everything in between, and it’s that type of isolation that Haigh seeks to highlight – isolation driven by fear, fearing that you’ll never be loved or be enough but also fearing the possibility of finding out whether or not you are right. It’s so much deeper than a story of gay men being isolated, and it being told from an LGBTQ+ perspective simply lends more truth and power to its universal nature – that I, a straight man, can resonate with and recognize the tension of needing connection but fearing the hurt that comes when you connect with imperfect people as an imperfect person. It’s powerful.
To top it all off, though, each of the four actors in this film (because it really is just a four-person film with two other credited actors who share one line between the two of them) delivers some of their best work, and when Oscar nominations leave all four of them out on Tuesday, it’s going to be a travesty. Claire Foy as Adam’s mother gets the opportunity to play this maternal figure to a forty-something man while being five to ten years younger than him due to the circumstances of her life and death. It’s a fascinating performance to watch because of how natural it feels, how, no matter the age of your child, you never stop being a mother – with all the highs and lows of motherhood included. Across from her, Jamie Bell plays Adam’s father in what is arguably the most emotionally taxing role of the film as he comes to terms with his treatment of his son while alive, forgive himself, and ask for a chance to be better in one of the most touching scenes from a film in the past year. Paul Mescal provides the perfect sounding board for Adam’s newfound desire for intimacy, offering a caring and interested romantic partner who hides his own pain just as deep down as Adam. It’s a strong supporting performance that comes to a climax in the film’s final sequences when his own pain and isolation finally make themselves known, and the audience gets to see the fullness of his own character development that’s been happening across the film. Finally, without Andrew Scott, this film simply doesn't work. His combination of longing, loneliness, and eventual acceptance come through in every facial expression, movement, and line delivery as he takes the audience along with him on this emotional ride of learning to connect with others and shed his fear of rejection. His is actually one of the best male performances of the year.
All of Us Strangers gives audiences a glimpse at the power of films to tell universal truths in compelling and emotionally engaging packages thanks to the excellent adaptation and direction of Andrew Haigh and the spot-on performances from all four of the film’s primary players. On the surface this film could be one of the bleakest and most depressing looks at the current state of humanity, but deep down it offers a beautiful alternative if we can only get over ourselves and let others into our hurts and fears and see their own as we want to be seen. If you’ve got this film showing at a theater near you, I can’t stress enough how much you should go check it out. If not, definitely find it when it hits streaming.
