Living (2022)

Directed by Oliver Hermanus. Starring Bill Nighy, Alex Sharp, Aimee Lou Wood, Adrian Rawlins, Hubert Burton, Oliver Chris, Tom Burke, Barney Fishwick, Michael Cochrane, Patsy Ferran, Anant Warman. [PG-13]

An Ikiru redo wasn’t anything we needed, but it’s not without value, and certainly isn’t an embarrassment of scene-by-scene refurbishment. Set in a 1950s London as repressed and disconnected as Kurosawa’s 1950s view of contemporary Tokyo, Nighy is perfectly cast as a button-down robotic bureaucrat, pinched tighter than a “claw game” coin slot, whose aloofness flakes away upon news of being diagnosed with a terminal illness. Unable to go through with his plans to take his own life, he takes solace in youthful reminiscences, befriending a former colleague (Wood), and dedicating himself to cutting through the red tape surrounding the efforts to construct a playground. Evocative period mise-en-scène and the muted yet individualistic aromas cooked up by the main cast members set this poignant drama on its own pathway, but the rigid complacency of Kazuo Ishiguro’s adapted dialogue and Hermanus’ dutiful visual arrangements only caused me to fondly remember the superior elements of Ikiru (who can watch shots of Nighy on the playground swing at the end and not splice memories of softly-lit Takashi Shimura in its place?). Nighy’s affecting performance starts his Mr. Williams as an inarticulate still-life of curmudgeonly creases, sparing whispered words like sips of afternoon tea, but he emerges with renewed vigor and spontaneity (as much as an aging creature of habit can manage, at least), and all without turning him into a sentimental sap or two-dimensionally “cute” codger ya just can’t help but love, darn it. Debuted at the Sundance Film Festival.

74/100