William Faulker’s line about the past not being dead or even the past applies to this new movie from Andrew Haigh (who directed the London-set drama, Weekend). It is a wonderfully acted minor-key study in anxiety and regret, about a wintry crisis in the relationship of a retired couple played by Charlotte Rampling and Tom Courtenay. The film, based on a short story by David Constantine, is composed with rigour and exactitude and performed with a repressed, heartfelt passion. Courtenay, in particular, gives us what might actually be his finest hour. The couple’s lives together are shown in dialogue scenes interleaved with silent panoramic shots of the vast and slightly featureless East Anglian landscape; these do not cleanse the palate exactly, but add to the growing unease. The emotional disquiet builds like an orchestral crescendo from near-silence to a roar.
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