WE REALLY DO, LIVE IN TIME

A film review of John Crowley’s We Live In Time (2024)

By: Francesca Jaques

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Credit: Slash Film

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Around 29 minutes into John Crowley’s We Live In Time (2024), I became exceedingly annoyed. So far, I could tell the film was beautifully framed, magically colored, heartbreakingly written, and very well directed. Almut, played by Florence Pugh, has a charm that made me feel like she was delivering her lines right next to me. I could almost feel the breath between her words, gentle on my skin. Andrew Garfield’s range is continuously shocking; he brought Tobias to life so humanistically, conveying the exuberance of human feelings that we can’t fathom until we’re in the midst of them, ones that should be impossible to replicate.

We Live In Time tells the devastating story of Almut, a vivacious chef in her 30s who is living her last year after a diagnosis of stage three ovarian cancer. Through carefully crafted flashbacks, we fall in love with Almut as Tobias does. We watch as she builds a family against all odds, opens a restaurant, and struggles to accept her diagnosis. She struggles to prioritize what’s important and what she needs to finalize in her time. She struggles with what will make her feel fulfilled. We Live In Time is about fulfillment. It is about nourishment, reality, and the fleeting feeling of contentment.

Credit: Pinterest

What happened in those 29 minutes that bothered me? In 29 minutes, Tobias and Almut ate at least seven times. I was shocked by how much food appeared in this film. How many takes did they make Florence chew on one cookie? Why were they always eating? It felt almost excessive, as if food was constantly present for no particular reason, until the reason became clear. Eating was a motif for nourishment—not just of the body, but of the soul. We Live in Time channels reality and comfortability through the act of feeding yourself, being there for yourself, understanding your desires, recognizing your urges for satisfaction, avoiding starvation, and just living. 

Along with obnoxious eating, comfortability was established throughout Almut’s pregnancy. A24 is known for (sometimes excessive) nudity, and while this film is no exception, John Crowley uses it intentionally, creating a subtle sense of revival. There is something about watching Florence Pugh give birth in a gas station bathroom that makes you think about the vitality of the human experience, how human life can originate from something so messy and strange, and how many things are birthed from uncanny and uncomfortable experiences.

We Live in Time sat me down and forced me to watch some of Almut’s most transforming experiences, then took her away. In her final moments, Almut chose her work over the people who loved her, believing her purpose lay there. But as time slipped away, she saw how empty that victory would be. Winning or losing had never been what mattered; she’d been searching for something that only the closeness of others could give her, a fulfillment that her ambition alone could never reach. She was a flicker of something magical, and she still had to die. She taught me there is no right way to act, but there is a right way to live.

Credit: Francesca Jaques

Do what you need to feel full. Eat. Consume food, books, friendships, music, and everything you deem beautiful. Someday, it will all be out of reach. Someday, others will be sat down and forced to watch everything be taken from you. But not yet. 

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Francesca Jaques is an online writer for Rowdy Magazine. She describes herself as extremely kind, effortlessly funny, hauntingly beautiful, and humble. IG: @francescajaques13 EMAIL: tutijaques@gmail.com