Tender but bruising, All of Us Strangers is an absolute marvel, the kind of movie that leaves a mark on you for weeks. Writer/director Andrew Haigh weaves a bittersweet drama about a son’s enduring grief together with a healing romance between two broken men, adding in a fantastical element just in case it feels like something you’ve seen before. All of Us Strangers is a natural evolution of Haigh’s work in Weekend and 45 Years, while also marking a huge leap forward for the already acclaimed filmmaker.
In those two films, Haigh dealt with sex, love, and the simultaneously delicate and enduring connection between people, and he continues to build upon those themes in All of Strangers. He centers his story on Adam (Andrew Scott), a screenwriter who lives alone in a large, near-empty apartment building in London. His sole neighbor, hard-partying Harry (Paul Mescal), is hungry and haunted, while Adam displays a quieter need but is at his core no less desirous of companionship. Though Adam initially resists Harry’s advances, they soon begin a sweet, sexy romance. It feels like Adam and Harry are the only two people in the world; they’re the lone, lonely residents of their building, and even surrounded by others when they do venture out, everyone else just fades into the background.
Meanwhile, when he is alone, Adam is stuck on his latest screenwriting project. He immerses himself in the pop music he grew up with — Fine Young Cannibals, Alison Moyet, and Frankie Goes to Hollywood — and he pores over old photographs of himself as a kid. Inspired, he takes a trip to his childhood home just outside of London, where he encounters his parents (Jamie Bell and Claire Foy), who died before his 12th birthday. They look just as he remembers them, and they’re surprised and delighted to see their son all grown up from the boy he was. He continues to visit them, sharing who he has become and how the world has changed in their absence. While back in his current home in London, he falls deeper for Harry.
Inspired by Taichi Yamada’s novel Strangers, All of Us Strangers isn’t especially concerned with the mechanics of how Alan visits his parents, leaving it intentionally vague and allowing the audience to believe in what love can do. Instead, it is only clear that this is what Adam needs at this moment, both creatively and emotionally. Harry’s appearance feels like a kind of magic as well, reflecting the wonder of when you happen upon the right person at the right time in both of your lives.
Haigh has made a film without a wasted frame or word; each moment feels purposeful and freighted with intent. He and his crew have put tremendous thought into each aspect, especially its lighting and the color scheme in the mise en scène. Full of saturated blues and contrasting oranges, All of Us Strangers is lovely to look at, but it isn’t just gorgeous. Changes in light reflect the passage of time, a critical element in this story. Time slips away from Adam; he closes his eyes and the day has passed him by. He literally dwells in the past when he returns to his parents’ home, but Harry grounds him in the present.
Each moment between the two men feels precious, weighted with immediacy and intimacy as they grasp for connection with someone but also with this specific person. Even relatively tame shots of hands on thighs are incredibly erotic, thanks to the searing chemistry between Scott and Mescal. We’re present in each moment with them, so close that we can see the actors’ pores from these close vantage points.
Like love itself, All of Us Strangers has the potential to break your heart but is absolutely worth the risk. This is a crushing, beautiful film that would have ruined my day if it were made by lesser hands. Yet under Haigh’s fine control, it never becomes maudlin or overwrought. It strikes the perfect tone in each moment, creating an achingly romantic film that leaves you bereft but ultimately hopeful for both the power of love and the power of cinema.
A
“All of Us Strangers” is in theaters Friday.
