John Crowley’s We Live In Time is a refreshingly unconventional love story told across three distinct timelines. It chronicles the relationship between impulsive chef Almut (Florence Pugh) and timid Tobias (Andrew Garfield), from their meet-cute (she hits him with her car) to the birth of their daughter, and the fateful doctors appointment where Almut is diagnosed with stage three ovarian cancer.

That might sound like a lot of spoilers, but Crowley deftly lays out the story’s non-linear structure early on, spelling out the broad strokes of the story in the opening minutes of the film. It’s an intriguing way to tell the story, and while it loses the build-up to big dramatic moments that you get in more conventional love stories, the result is an always deeply involving film. The leaps in chronology are edited fluidly and Crowley trusts his audience to understand where we are in the narrative without any visual cues or clunky onscreen text.

I worried that the non-linear structure could serve as a way to distract from an otherwise dull story, but thankfully that isn’t the case here. Both Garfield and Pugh give layered, nuanced performances and have an effortless chemistry together. They bounce off each other nicely, and there’s a natural closeness to them together that gives them a very authentic feel as a couple.

Pugh is especially convincing playing a strong-willed, fiery, career driven woman. She gives Almut a hardness that I suppose is necessary for a successful chef, but there’s a warmth to her as well, and a vulnerability that lies just beneath the surface Garfield gets what is arguably the harder role, all goofy smiles and gentle manners. He is at times infuriatingly patient and reasonable, recalling the quiet passivity of Jim Carrey in Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind. Even his patience has a limit though, as demonstrated in an epic argument scene which is a standout in a film full of heartfelt moments, raw and powerful, showcasing the actors at their best.

This is very consciously not a film about someone’s physical deterioration, and to his credit Crowley expertly avoids any overwrought speeches or Oscar-baity dramatic physical transformations. Instead Crowley focuses almost entirely on the mental toll of the diagnosis, on Almut’s ambition, her drive and her determination to continue pursuing her dreams, even as her body fails her.

It’s a facet of a terminal illness that is rarely depicted on film, the unbearable dichotomy between a mind that is still vital and inquisitive, and a body that is slowly shutting down. It’s a brutally cruel situation, and Pugh gives a masterclass in stoicism as she steadfastly refuses to fit into the “dying mother” film trope.

This also speaks to another element that I liked about the film, the refusal to play her as a victim, or to soften her more abrasive traits. Dying people can be selfish too, and while the big argument scene is fairly even-handed, it’s hard to not take Garfield’s side. Almut isn’t reduced to a suffering victim or a saintly martyr. Instead she is resolutely stubborn in the face of her diagnosis. It doesn’t make her right or wrong in her plan to covertly enter a cooking competition, but it does make her an endlessly compelling character.

I also really enjoyed how few scenes there were of Almut preparing food for her big contest. It’s as if Crowley is making it plain to the audience that it’s not important what she is doing, it’s important that she is doing it. It also makes the final sequence in France all the more compelling, as we are seeing her do it for the first time, along with Tobias. We are put in his shoes for a moment and can see why this is so important to her, and also a new appreciation for her talent emerge on his part.

Where it lost me a little is in the more standard romance scenes. However, the banter between the couple in the more banal everyday scenes felt a little too mannered, a little too twee, (a bit too Richard Curtis-lite) for my liking. The dialogue also swerves into very on-the-nose territory at points. In one ominously happy scene, Almut actually exclaims “Everything’s great!” which feels particularly contrived.

Both Pugh and Garfield are incredibly talented actors though, and the dramatic scenes are engaging and powerful. The performances might sometimes verge on twee, but the emotions are ever present and always feel honest and true-to-life. The birth scene in particular is so authentic and emotional, I defy anyone who has been in that situation to not shed a tear. There are several moments like this that are beautifully depicted, and feel incredibly true-to-life – the first argument, the first day spent together, the almost Brief Encounter like moment when they try to break the tragic news to their daughter only to be met with constant interruptions. All of these are beautifully observed and vividly depicted, but even more affecting are the quieter, more introspective moments, which are beautifully performed.

The emotional climax is just as affecting as you might expect, although this is also where the films only real misstep occurs. It’s a classic example of an ending that judges the pathos perfectly, never feeling overly sentimental until it holds on one specific shot for just a beat too long, briefly breaking the spell. It’s not enough to derail the film though, and if anything makes you appreciate the subtlety of earlier scenes all the more. (Also there is no way that two people as beautiful as them consume quite as much chocolate as they do over the course of the film – in places it feels like an advert for McVities!)

A sometimes twee, but always involving drama, We Live In Time is a mature, vibrant piece of film-making, with two assured performances at its centre. The way it flits about the timeline is unobtrusive and effective, and it largely manages to tell a truly touching story about a terminal illness without getting maudlin or overly sentimental. It may lapse into smugness at times but it’s easy to forgive this when the performances are so powerful and the filmmaking is so sophisticated.

We Live In Time is in UK and Irish cinemas from 1st January 2025