Supernova (2021)

Score: 2.5 / 5

Supernova is one of those movies that was inspired by a single brilliant idea, then fluffed up and fleshed out with a bunch of vague supporting details and scenes, but is ultimately saved by its stars. A quiet, somber look at aging love, this romance hits almost no points of novelty in a remarkably tame story. It has few, if any, aspirations to be profound, instead contentedly hovering between arthouse chic and Hallmark schlock. When it aims for your tear ducts -- and it does, several times -- even I (a crier in most movies anyway) felt more annoyed than touched by its heavy-handed blows. And yet, thanks to some of the most emotionally honest work I've ever seen from its leading men, this movie is more than worth a watch.

A campervan driving across the gorgeous English countryside carries two men, partners for twentysomething years. Sam (Colin Firth) drives while Tusker (Stanley Tucci) navigates, and the two lightheartedly bicker about the directions, about who gets to drive, about the music on the radio. Their sweet pooch lies behind them tranquilly. There is no exposition in this film, and very little history is shared of their relationship through dialogue. Rather, Firth and Tucci inject powerful weight into every interaction, so much so that the stilted dialogue tends to become more distracting than anything. The two men often react to each other wordlessly but slightly physically, as old partners who are probably more aware of each other's body language than their own. They can sense a shift in attitude, a mental block, emotional subtleties in an instant. It probably helps that the two actors are longtime friends in real life. Thankfully, writer/director Harry Macqueen seems to be aware of his own writerly inadequacies, and so most scenes are in fact silent.

It's clear there is a melancholia to these life partners, and it doesn't take long for us to see that Tusker is slowly slipping away into the abyss of early-onset dementia. He wanders, sometimes physically but mostly mentally, and he's keenly aware of his own shortcomings. Carrying the knowledge that his brain is failing, Tusker is retreating into himself, often remaining still and reflective in moments that would ordinarily call for a response or even an outburst. I was reminded of Still Alice a lot, though this film's beats are less unexpected and brutal, more sentimental and safe. Sam, on the other hand, dutifully and proactively attempts to care for him, but is having trouble finding the sweet spot of care over control. His every look at Tusker puts him on the verge of weeping, not because of the loss that is to come but because of the loss that is already happening. These are clearly not the same men who fell in love long ago, and it won't be long before neither of them knows the other anymore.

When they reach their destination, we learn considerably more about what's going on, and it's a devastating revelation. Not for us so much -- we've seen this story before, most recently in Blackbird, but it's an important issue for people to consider -- as for the characters, who suddenly have to decide if their extraordinarily believable and honest love for each other is selfless or selfish. The relative doldrums of the first half of the movie are left behind when the friends and family show up, even though the movie still belongs to Sam and Tusker, and things gain speed and traction. But there is no real action in this movie; it's a character study, and a fairly maudlin one at that. But the discussions become more interesting and urgent. There's one amazing scene -- surely the inspiration for creating this film -- in particular when, over dinner, Tusker, who is a writer by profession, attempts to read a speech in honor of his life partner. When he is unable due to his dementia, Sam steps in to read it. It's the best writing in the film and a masterclass in acting, as Tusker externally beams over his own words about Sam and internally crumbling as the reality of his condition sets in. I can't praise the film for much (this kind of thing isn't really in my wheelhouse), but Tucci and Firth are firing on all fronts and it's a wonder to behold.