In Richard Curtis’ About Time, a time-travelling father tells his similarly gifted son to live each day twice; first to experience it, then to savour it. This is also good advice for watching the film. If you’re like me, your first viewing will be marked by heart-pangs and sobbing that once started, never quite stop.
Domhnall Gleeson, already an actor of consistently scene-stealing beauty and nuance, overtakes Hugh Grant as Richard Curtis’ most effortlessly charming muse, playing the foppish if awkward Tim. The radiant Bill Nighy is his erudite father who passes on his unique ability. The power is limited; better suited to changing small, personal moments than altering history books. And so the time-travelling conceit becomes merely a way for the characters to chase their modest, wonderfully relatable desires. To fall in love. To not mess up. To read more books. To save a lost sister from an abusive relationship. To spend one more day with someone you’ve lost. To be happy.
The film begins as typical Curtis rom-com fare, with a bourgeois setting and romantic interest (Rachel McAdams). There are also the predictable meet-cutes, mess ups, second impressions and sexual do-overs that you’d expect from a time-travel flick. Spanning ten years, this isn’t a film just about romance. It’s about family, love and growing up. Nighy and Gleeson share warm, witty chemistry, while Lydia Wilson is stunning as Tim’s kooky, troubled sibling. The relationships are the most beautifully observed and gut-wrenching that Curtis has written in years. Gleeson is wonderful as a husband, father, brother and son, trying to make each day count.