Ryusuke Hamaguchi has made a beautiful film about the value of time. Shame he wants quite so much of mine.
Virginie Efira runs a care home where listening to residents and treating them with dignity seems almost revolutionary. Depressingly, perhaps it is. Her friendship with Tao Okamoto's terminally ill theatre director grows out of long, unhurried conversations, and the two of them are wonderful together. I could have listened to them for hours. Hamaguchi took that rather literally.
There's even a whiteboard lecture on capitalism, and weirdly it's one of the highlights. Still, it's the small moments that got to me, like someone holding a resident's hand for as long as it takes.
The trouble is the 196 minutes. By the third act, every fade-out felt like a promise, and Hamaguchi kept breaking it. The ending is lovely, but by the time it arrived I was too tired to cry.
Hamaguchi understands the importance of listening. Knowing when to stop talking could be next on the syllabus.