We Live in Time: A Kaleidoscopic, Intimate Tearjerker

Love and grief are two nonlinear experiences, so it is fitting that John Crowley’s newest film, We Live in Time, is a nonlinear depiction of the relationship between Tobias (Andrew Garfield) and Almut (Florence Pugh). Their romance is fraught with lifestyle differences, health scares, and career pressures, much like those in the preceding decades of romantic dramas; we’ve all seen plenty of beautiful white couples fight onscreen before. But while the framework and the plot beats are not revolutionary, the film’s strength lies in the acting. Garfield and Pugh elevate the film from a standard tearjerker to a cathartic exploration of the way that love, grief, and memory intersect. 

The film opens somewhere in the middle of the love story of Almut and Tobias, showing us a cozy, domestic dream of a life where Almut, an inventive chef, awakens Tobias with a new parfait recipe. (Parfaits have layers, just like this story!) As we bop through time, we see the various phases of this relationship: their first meeting in an emergency room after Almut hits Tobias with her car; the fight that unfolds over whether to have children; the birth and childhood of their daughter, who comes during a period of respite between Almut’s cancer diagnoses. We watch the two work through (or dodge) the clashes that their opposing lifestyles and values bring, and the message of the film, as indicated by the title, is that time is a series of memories, and we can revisit the ones we love in the moments we have made with them. 

If judged only by the plot synopsis, We Live in Time seems like your typical saccharine tear-jerker in the style of one Nicholas Sparks, peddler of vaguely (or explicitly) Christian values represented by the most blandly attractive pair of people you might find milling around your local TJ Maxx. But Crowley manages to balance out the sweet moments—of which there are many—with moments that show more realistic and complex stages of a relationship. Tobias and Almut are no Noah and Allie; they are each presented as multifaceted, flawed individuals, and they work through their relationship troubles with more than just the power of love. 

Our two leads deliver performances that are, frankly, much better than they needed to be. I think they could sell tickets to watch two hours of these two hotties just standing in a room, but each of their talents—and their combined chemistry—make this way more moving than something you might find replaying on Lifetime. Almut is a refreshingly relatable female character; I would challenge anyone to show me a role where Pugh fails to deliver, but her work here should not slip through the cracks. The nonlinear structure means that we don’t always have context for our characters’ actions or decisions until later in the movie, such as Almut’s deception regarding the cooking competition. Pugh is able to project that nuance in every scene, showing us glimpses of the character’s history and deftly embodies such depth that leads us to trust and care for her, even when she is being combative. 

Garfield is also stellar; his physicality makes it believable that such a hot and charming person could be perceived as a dweeby, anxious Weetabix salesman. Beyond that, though, Garfield has been very open about his own experience with his mother’s illness and death, and one can easily see how he used that pain to inform his work here. He conveys empathy for his scene partner and, like Pugh, earns our trust and affection. 

But while the film absolutely made me cry, it also made me laugh, quite a bit more than I expected. There is, of course, a cameo from the internet’s favorite equine meme (and one of the film’s best promotional tools), but the characters have a realistic complexity, which includes the way that we tend to use humor to dissolve tension or bring levity to devastation. The scene where Almut ends up going into labor in a gas station convenience store stands out as a moment that is equal parts poignant, stressful, and silly; Crowley manages to infuse believability to even these unbelievable circumstances, weaving in the gratitude and love of new parents who have waited for so long for this chaos. 

But all this is not to say that this isn’t a certified “weepie,” the type of movie you watch when you need a good cry. There are a few surprises, sure, but the end feels inevitable, and the time-jumps can edge toward gimmicky at times. Without any concrete indicators, we are sometimes left to pin down where we are in the story solely based on Florence Pugh’s current haircut. It’s quite difficult to tell any kind of love story without leaning into cliche metaphor, but obvious choices (such as a montage of the two on a carousel, which will procure an eye roll from any Grey’s Anatomy fan) could have used a little more workshopping. But then again, I, personally, needed that good cry, and I was grateful to have these two hotties to pull it out of me rather than the real-life grief I’ve been experiencing. And just like formulaic pop music and paperback beach reads, I believe that weepies have a very important place in the world, and I’m glad that this one made it into A24’s catalog. 

If you’re still on the fence about whether you should catch this one in theaters, well, just circle back to that note about Pugh and Garfield’s chemistry; it’s something you definitely want to see 10 feet tall in 4K. For all of our sake, let’s hope that we get a run of these two starring opposite each other as many times that Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone did. I deserve to see at least one steamy scene for every tear I shed as the We Live In Time credits rolled.

If you enjoyed this article, please consider becoming a patron of Hyperreal Film Journal for as low as $3 a month!