Living

Remakes are a film tradition almost as old as filmmaking itself, with Georges Melies remaking a Lumiere brothers short, both made in 1896. While it would seem most worthwhile to remake a bad film in order to make it better, many filmmakers instead choose to put their own spin on good or even great films. This is especially common with foreign language films, as English-speaking audiences have an unfortunate reputation of not being friendly to subtitles. So despite its reputation as a masterpiece, it couldn’t be a great surprise when it was announced that there would be a remake of Akira Kurosawa’s Ikiru. But director Oliver Hermanus came to his project loaded for bear. With a script from novelist Kazuo Ishiguro, and a spectacular lead performance from Bill Nighy, Living is a successful remake indeed.

In a charming opening sequence, a group of government employees commuting by train to London are welcoming a new man, Peter Wakeling (Alex Sharp) on his first day joining their department. Further down the line, they point out their boss, Mr. Rodney Williams (Nighy) at his stop. Mr. Williams waves at the men, but does not travel with them. Upon arriving at the office, we see that this is Mr. Williams’s default setting. He is not unfriendly, but he is distant and reserved. He seems content operating as a cog in the great bureaucratic machine, setting aside paperwork sent from other departments with a simple “we can keep it here for a time, no harm done.” Mr. Wakeling gets to see just how the government works when he is sent along as a guide for a group of women who are trying to get a playground set up in their neighborhood. They are bounced from department to department only to end up back where they started, no further along in the process. The only fun in the office seems to come from Ms. Harris (Aimee Lou Wood), who is getting ready to leave to become an assistant manager at a local restaurant. In a disruption to the routine of the office, Mr. Williams leaves early one day. Unbeknownst to his co-workers, he has an appointment with his doctor, and it is bad news. He has terminal stomach cancer and only around six months left to live. Sitting at home, he is waiting to tell his son his terrible news, but when his son and daughter-in-law arrive home not knowing he is there, Mr. Williams overhears them discussing how they want him to give them money so they can get out of his house. A lonely Mr. Williams leaves work and family behind to try to relax at the seaside, only to find that he doesn’t really know how to enjoy himself anymore. He connects with a local charmer (Tom Burke), who takes him out carousing. In one of the best scenes of the film, a drunken Mr. Williams sings an old Scottish folk song, The Rowan Tree, accompanied by a bar pianist. It’s reminiscent of a scene from 2017’s Their Finest, which featured Nighy singing another folk song, Wild Mountain Thyme. But where the scene in Lone Scherfig’s wartime film evoked common strength in the face of great trouble, the song in Living only highlights Mr. Williams’s loneliness and loss. Returning home, Mr. Williams connects with Ms. Harris, who inspires him to try to get the most out of his remaining time – to use his knowledge and goodwill to help others.

While built on a solid foundation of behind-the-scenes craft, the greatest strength of Living is Bill Nighy’s performance. While a longtime presence in England, Nighy burst onto the radar of most Americans with his performance as aging rocker Billy Mack in Love Actually. His reservoir of sensitive, intelligent charm is Nighy’s power as an actor. But in Living, Nighy has to mute this, playing Mr. Williams, at least to start, as quiet and reserved, very much the “Mr. Zombie” that Ms. Harris nicknames him. Nighy plays this very well. And while other sides to Mr. Williams’s personality eventually shine through – such as his humor and his sadness, Nighy makes the smart choice to never change the fundamental quietness at the heart of the performance. Watching the agony, disappointment, and hope cross Nighy’s face in the scene where Mr. Williams is planning to tell his son about his diagnosis is a mini-masterclass. And while this is Nighy’s show overall, Wood and Burke also come off very well in their supporting performances. Wood brings the charm to this film that she has in her role on the Netflix series Sex Education, but where her character there is sweetly daffy, here she is a sharp young woman making her way in a changing post-war world. Burke, who played a charismatic drug addict so well in The Souvenir tempers that charisma with kindness as his Mr. Sutherland shows Mr. Williams a bit of the other side of life.

Ishiguro’s script sticks quite close on the plot side to the original film, but does an excellent job transferring the story to post-war London. The reserved British nature Ishiguro wrote so well in his novel Remains of the Day carries into this work. Director Oliver Hermanus made the choice to make the film in the 1.33:1 aspect ratio, and it’s a good decision here. It gives it the feel of a 50s period piece, and the fact that the film is a small, character driven drama means that there’s no sense of loss not having widescreen. Another hero of the film is cinematographer Jamie Ramsay. The film is lit warmly and looks beautiful. It does not suffer from a digital look, which would only hurt the film. Finally, the score from French pianist/composer Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch is quiet and largely piano-driven. It fits the character of the film perfectly, supporting without overwhelming. Living is one of the best films of 2022, featuring what may be the best performance of 2022.