All of Us Strangers, 2023.
Written and Directed by Andrew Haigh.
Starring Andrew Scott, Paul Mescal, Jamie Bell, Claire Foy, Carter John Grout, and Ami Tredrea.
SYNOPSIS:
A screenwriter drawn back to his childhood home enters into a fledgling relationship with a mysterious neighbor as he then discovers his parents appear to be living just as they were on the day they died, 30 years before.
Coming into writer/director Andrew Haigh’s All of Us Strangers without any knowledge of its more peculiar dynamics (being as vague as possible not to give away anything) or the source material it is loosely adapted from (Strangers by Taichi Yamada), the act of watching it begins to feel like the film could fall apart and become a disaster at any second. It doesn’t, but that’s an idea of the challenging needle being threaded here regarding fantasy and reality.
Centered on depressed, lonely screenwriter Adam (a magnificent Andrew Scott, also a key reason the story’s structure holds up), writer’s block keeps him from getting anything done. While outside, he also notices and slightly stares at a handsome man near the top of the apartment complex (the only other occupant inside the building in what is the first of many bizarre observations). Moments later, when Adam is back inside, that man knocks on the door and introduces himself as Harry (an outstanding Paul Mescal), intoxicated and somewhat troubled but satisfied that Adam seems to be smitten and eager to get to know him.
As they start spending time together, it immediately becomes clear that Harry is more comfortable and open about his sexuality, whereas Adam appears to be closeted. In one of the script’s most beautifully thoughtful moments, the two discuss terms like “queer” and “gay” alongside how it relates to their past with being bullied (Harry also mentions that he was a disliked heavier kid) and which one they prefer to be referred to as. Harry also notices a plethora of Adam’s childhood photos and belongings scattered about, prompting him to inquire about his family, receiving a response that they tragically died simultaneously in a fatal car accident. As such, there is a moving, joyful scene when Harry and Adam head out into a gay club, with the latter feeling liberated and free in his identity publicly for the first time.
This is where the plot gets a bit strange to describe, as Adam occasionally visits his childhood home where his parents, to our eyes, appear to be alive and played by Jamie Bell and Claire Foy, which, of course, makes no sense given that the ages of everyone involved (again, if you go into this film blind, you will be wondering if you need your ears cleaned upon hearing Claire Foy refer to Andrew Scott as her son) don’t fit in any logical context. Nonetheless, they remark that they never thought they would see him again (adding to this hypnotic confusion), ecstatic that he had dropped by. As they begin reconnecting over several visits, Adam also feels slightly more confident due to his budding relationship with Harry, able to reveal his sexual identity to his parents.
It’s not necessarily shocking what is actually happening here, and everything from the dialogue to Andrew Scott’s masterful performance clues us in (he is acting differently for specific reasons around his parents as if he is still the child that lost his parents to a car accident), considering the protagonist is a writer; it does seem fairly obvious after a few minutes of thinking following initially being disoriented, but All of Us Strangers shies away from all of this feeling like cheap, twisty games by forcing the characters into poignant dialogue exchanges about grief, homosexuality, regret, and stolen time.. The reactions Adam gets from his mom and dad about coming out as gay are both unique, with each conversation painstakingly heartfelt. It’s powerful, absorbing, and heartfelt in a special way that will be an enormously useful tool to anyone who has ever felt similar pain.
All of us Strangers truly should be experienced knowing as little as possible, aware that although the film is clearly about a specific, devastating type of grief relating to its effects on sexual identity and living that life freely. It is warmly shot, boasts numerous sensual sequences of intimacy, and comes with soul-piercing needle drops touching upon regret and love. There are one or two small moments where the clashing of fantasy and reality come close to feeling as if they might undo the subtle beauty of the storytelling, but Andrew Haigh has firm control, spinning a tale of grief and love and building to a spellbinding, life-affirming, poetically transfixing, tear-inducing climax.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
