Aimee Rice brings us through the emotional hills and valleys of We Live in Time, a comfortingly predictable tale of loss and legacy
We Live in Time (2024) follows the affectionate and devastatingly predictable love story of Almut (Florence Pugh) and Tobias (Andrew Garfield). Brought together by a surprise encounter, Almut and Tobias embark upon a journey of passion and romance. Their story is depicted using a non-linear narrative, which lends itself to the thematic sombre tone delicately balanced with their vibrant on-screen chemistry. This balance encapsulates the film’s central focus on love’s greatest sacrifice: loss.
A driving aspect of the film’s narrative is Almut’s recurring cancer diagnosis, which deeply coincides with her growing feelings of inadequacy, both in her pursuits as a professional chef, and in motherhood. Almut’s feelings are expressed through Florence Pugh’s emotionally evocative performance. Where the cancer is concerned, although the film makes the audience aware from the beginning that essentially her cancer will be terminal, the film can be commended as it does not dwell on nor exploit her eventual terminal illness for drama’s sake, rather, the narrative focuses on her emotional journey.
Almut is portrayed as a hyper-independent force of creativity and a character of fierce strong will, communicating to the audience that her legacy is of utmost importance to her, driving most of the conflict within the film’s second half. After Tobias catches Almut out in a lie concerning her competing as a chef, she expresses to Tobias in an outburst of raw emotion that she is desperate to be remembered as more than her daughter’s ‘dead mother’. The film pivots away from exploiting the drama of her death and rather focuses on taking ownership of her legacy in a positive and mostly constructive way. Tobias is shown to be a man of great patience and a beacon of hope for Almut as he is repeatedly the one who repairs the conflicts within their relationship.
Within its breezy runtime, the film does well in condensing a substantial amount of plot, which is made plausible through its non-linear narrative device. It becomes evident that Almut’s cancer will return and that she and Tobias will eventually settle on deciding to have a baby together, which was a point of contention in their relationship. These predictabilities hinder the film’s dramatic aspects and limit its ability to create emotional investment. We Live in Time ultimately culminates in a soft and safe sob story most can reasonably enjoy with little to no distress as the film essentially concludes from its opening what the character’s trajectories will be.
That is not to say that the film is totally incapable of creating emotional investment, as I would argue the script and the actors’ performances hold a redeemable quality, along with the film’s aesthetic appeal. These fundamental aspects of the film hold its heart, and I believe the central message of the film.
The narrative revolves less around illness and more around appreciating the current moment and processing the pain of loss, which amusingly the film does not dwell on much aside from one scripted moment which echoes the film's moving sentiments. The line in question refers to when Almut is explaining the best way to crack an egg, and I believe it to be the film’s strongest moment of symbolism, as Tobias is shown in the final scene of the film asking that very same question to their daughter. This call back in the dialogue is an effective way to reaffirm the film's emotional philosophy of life and legacy prevailing in the face of loss. This is where the film manages to redeem its audience’s emotional investment, as it lingered on a moment of strong symbolism that feels earned, despite some of its more contrived attempts at holding emotional weight.
Perhaps the constraints of time and the non-linear narrative pattern are ultimately what plagued the film’s attempts at communicating the brevity and fragility of life itself. Unbeknownst to them, it is a love story plagued by the thief of time.