If you think about it, some of the best ghost stories are love stories in disguise, and some of the best love stories are ghost stories. In director Andrew Haigh’s latest emotionally charged drama, he finds the point where romance and the supernatural meet hand in hand.

Fans of Haigh’s work may be surprised by just how abstract All of Us Strangers gets in its depiction of love across time dimensions. It all makes sense when considering how Haigh was inspired by the 1987 novel Strangers by Taichi Yamada — a Japanese ghost tale of lauded appeal.

The film follows a depressed screenwriter, Adam (Andrew Scott), who searches for connection and meaning in his nearly-empty London apartment building. After a chance encounter with Harry (Paul Mescal), Adam begins writing a script that reconnects him to his childhood home. There, he meets his parents (Claire Foy and Jamie Bell) on the day they died in a car crash thirty years ago, with Adam now older than his parents.

Haigh, an openly gay director, began making a tremendous impact on the trajectory of LGBTQ+ cinema with his breakout indie film Weekend (2011). In All of Us Strangers, Haigh brings to life another devastating story of love, grief and the loss of time. As speculative as the film’s premise may sound, it’s just as grounded as Haigh’s previous works. With storytelling focused on emotional openness and sincerity, Haigh has crafted one of the year’s best films.

The storyline featuring Adam reconnecting with his parents stuck in the 1980s perfectly tackles the unique queer experience of outgrowing the version of who your parents thought you would be. It also strikes a chord on the evolution of language and ideals in LGBTQ+ culture. As his parents are stuck in the 1980s, they have limited knowledge of how worldwide conversations surrounding LGBTQ+ acceptance have shifted over time, only adding to the distance Adam feels from sharing his full self. Adam’s mom can’t even comprehend a time in which Adam is free to be openly gay. It’s not that she isn’t trying to be supportive; she just doesn’t understand.

Across Haigh’s entire filmography, one thing is very clear: he’s no stranger to a character-driven drama. In All of Us Strangers, he’s more patient than ever in his approach, allowing the audience the proper space to witness Adam sifting through his memories and regrets. The film’s frequent use of cross-dissolves depicts the fluid interconnectedness of memory, no matter how fragmented specific recollections of moments may be. Remembering one moment or one person always leads to another nearby memory, often spilling into each other.

Haigh is just as attentive to the setting around the characters as he is to the characters themselves. The loneliness and empty space that Adam and Harry move through in their daily lives is exemplified by their high-rise complex — multiple stories tall, rising over London, yet all rooms are dark except two. Jamie D. Ramsay’s intricate cinematography captures the focal setting of the story with a sense of longing that is nothing short of heartbreaking.

The major city also exemplifies the loneliness they find themselves in. Opportunity and life seem just outside their door, yet every day still feels so mundane. The limited use of background extras in public spaces creates an intimately metaphysical world where Harry and Adam seem to exist in a dedicated space of their own.

Mescal and Scott in a queer romantic drama is a cinematic match made in heaven. Scott is the definitive standout in his first major leading role, bringing an intimate sadness into Adam’s psyche. Scott’s turn as Adam is clear evidence of Scott’s leading potential moving forward. He plays Adam’s few moments of genuine happiness and joy with a tearful smile as he discovers what it means to truly connect with another man.  Mescal also gives a strong performance but doesn’t get as much screen time in a limited role. Meanwhile, Foy and Bell fully commit to portraying two parents with the most sincere intentions despite their shortsighted perspective.

Both leads allow their characters to go to such vulnerable places in their desire to better understand each other and the concept of love at large. For many queer people, the feeling of not experiencing love until a much older age than their peers leads to uncertainty about whether what they are undergoing is true love or not. Haigh’s script captures so many specific queer experiences through Adam’s relationship with Harry and his family, and both of these storylines compound into beauty and tragedy.

Haigh also brings a surreal quality to his filmmaking in the second half as Adam begins to over-rely on his time with his parents, which affects his relationship with Harry. When Adam goes out to a party with Harry, their faces are intercut with other dancing bodies around them as the night envelops them. Blur’s moody, unsettling track “Death of a Party” takes over — a perfect music choice (as is every needle-drop played throughout the film). Adam and Harry lose sense of all time and place. The ultimate conclusion to Adam and Harry’s relationship may lose some viewers, but it allows Haigh to make his most grand statement about love.

All of Us Strangers is a summation of the everlasting power of love and the inevitable end to all of our relationships in life. Haigh is the rare kind of filmmaker with the ability to break our hearts while also making us believe in love, continuing to move on — through all pain, confusion and death — to another dimension entirely. Not seen, but always felt deep down.

Review Courtesy of Matt Minton

Feature Image Credit to Searchlight Pictures via IMDb