Bill Nighy is given his twilight year dues with Living, a quintessentially stuffy and British adaptation that brushes shoulders with Leo Tolstoy and Akira Kurosawa. Important bedfellows The Death of Ivan Ilyich and Ikiru make for, they find their perspectives dressed up in bowler hats and post-war attitudes. Commutes and processions and processions are the lead to death. Fear marks the slow pull into the station carrying Mr. Rodney Williams (Nighy), the stern man at the heart of this piece. He and those colleagues are chilling representations that pull from the workplace and paper skyscrapers, the bureaucracy and cog jams that came so frequently in post-war Britain. Beautiful direction, Nighy’s presence, it all comes together perfectly in Living, a colourful challenge against doing no harm in life.
Mortality and the procession are core to Living, a moving piece that keeps its focus on memory and the convincing lead from Nighy. His contemplation and regret are firmed up by the realisation of living wrong. Living knows it is never too late to change that. Nighy relies on the firm hand he has always given to his work. A true swansong not for the generalities that come from the term but because those that have followed his work, have noticed the little twinges on the corners of his lips and the wry leading work he brings, are seeing that final push. Nighy is in stellar form here as he leads the charge in a film that is both liberating and contemplating finality. Aimee Lou Wood’s supporting performance as the upbeat and optimistic Margaret, their whole life ahead of them. It is a contrast that brings out the life outside of work, the heavy hanging feeling on the temple, buttered up and burnt off.
Perception is key and Oliver Hermanus’ direction is stunning. Vibrant and colourful interpretations of post-war London. His simplicity in those shot-reverse-shot moments leaves plenty of room for those likeable characters to spurn their emotions, to deploy their charms. Hermanus lingers on them, particularly Nighy, who acts with most of his interpretation resting on his face. But Living is not just a reproach of not living but an understanding of envy in the face of youth. Be jealous of the young but use it to launch forward into rekindling a love for life, or at least a moment of being active and aware of it. Intense and well-meaning scenes contemplate all of this, the regret of not speaking openly to those closest, the hardship of the twilight years, and the need to do some good with what remains.
Do something with the time left. Six months is a long time, Mr. Sutherland (Tom Burke) pleads. Trainspotting’s “choose life” spiel but taken in earnest. Everyone has a spark, and as Nighy belts out The Rowan Tree, that comes clear. An absolute and clarifying story told with raw emotion and the power that inevitably comes from seeing a lead performer finally receive his dues. Fill the night with light and clarity. Living holds within it such a powerful, evocative momentum that cries out for life to take hold. Those inklings of happiness, even if they come too late, are worth it in the end. But Living is a reminder to seize it sooner, to spend more time with it, and to contemplate that feeling for as long as it remains.
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