Movie Review: Living
One-liner: A strong lead performance, fine craftmanship and a poignant story compel this respectable and slow-moving adaptation.
Living is a coming-of-age drama based on the Akira Kurosawa classic, Ikiru (To Live). The iconic black-and-white Japanese drama journeys with a bureaucrat who tries to find meaning in his life after he discovers he has terminal cancer. In much the same way, Living travels with a humourless man who takes time off from his long-serving paper-pusher desk job when he receives an unwanted diagnosis.
Set in 1950s London, this quiet and introspective period drama stars the inimitable Bill Nighy. Now in his 70s, Nighy is an inspired choice to play the stoic man simply known as Williams. Known for his lovable charisma and trademark mannerisms, Nighy isn’t the first actor you’d consider to play a character who hasn’t truly lived… having the knack to play old rock ‘n rollers like Ray Simms in Still Crazy and Billy Mack in Love, Actually. Yet, in Living he takes on a counter-intuitive approach that recalls more subdued performances in films like Sometimes Always Never.
Nighy is supported by Aimee Lee Wood, Alex Sharp and Adrian Rawlins. Wood captures a naïve young woman just starting out in the job market and in the prime of her life. A muse of sorts, Margaret Harris serves as a strong ally and counterpoint to Williams. Sharp takes on the role of Peter Wakeling, essentially a younger, more self-aware version of Williams who has the opportunity to see the man’s wasted life as a cautionary tale. Then, it’s Rawlins whose second-in-command vibration, bowler hat silhouette and demeanour make him reminiscent of Michael Palin.
This is the work of filmmaker Oliver Hermanus, who is best known for Moffie, Skoonheid and Shirley Adams. Having established himself as an auteur with several fine South African films to his name, Hermanus takes the reins to direct Kazuo Ishiguro’s screenplay, based on the original script for Ikiru. The result demonstrates the director’s keen eye and finesse, framing Living through its old Hollywood opening credits. A stylistic choice to mimic the 1950s backdrop, it also speaks to the film’s artistic values and old world pacing.
Living is a living artwork in terms of its visual aesthetic, composing one artful frame after another to create a haunting and mesmerising mood. Careful to tip its bowler hat to Akira Kurosawa’s classic, it leverages the new setting and culture to play into the age’s intrinsic Britishness. Bowing to bureaucracy and form, this adaptation is right at home amid a stuffy office and within stiff-upper-lip society.
“I guess you could say, it’s a countdown to Paradiso…”
Living speaks to the idea of knowing your days are numbered. For one such bureaucrat, getting to this point in his life is a final wake up call that he must accept with open arms. In one sense, he makes peace with how much life he’s wasted and in another, he’s compelled to use his final months to live with greater purpose. At first morose and condemned to his fate, the bureaucrat reaches out to his family whose estrangement leaves him wanting. After taking a shine to a young co-worker, he finds an unlikely companion to rekindle his old heart.
This finely-crafted drama benefits from a strong performance from Bill Nighy, even if restrained and uncharacteristic. The story’s staying power as it relates to mortality remains timeless and there are enough nods to the original to offer due reverence. As picturesque as it is and in spite of being reframed to adopt an old world pacing, it is still slow-moving. A welcome adjustment to some, this does refocus one’s attention on the details and nuance but does make the story seem a bit stretched. In trying to mine the minutiae, it compels with glimmers of brilliance but does sacrifice some relatability and watchability along the way.
All in all, Oliver Hermanus has delivered a high quality film of finesse that while aloof still captures an important message about Living with the end in mind. Nighy may subvert expectations but still commands the screen with a dependable supporting cast. Gliding from one scene to the next in a seamless fashion, this is a hauntingly beautiful and respectable drama. Doffing the hat to its predecessor, it updates the setting and story to make it accessible to modern audiences and stirs up enough curiousity to want to see Kurosawa’s original, Ikiru.
The bottom line: Admirable
