Living
Bill Nighy trades in his eccentric charisma for a more refined, shy presence to give a standout performance as a dying bureaucrat in an English adaptation of Akira Kurosawa’s Ikiru.
Following Kurosawa’s version, director Oliver Hermanus set his film in the 1950s, specifically in a postwar London county council. Nighy plays Mr. Williams who is a posh civil servant in the town planning department. Throughout his years of work in the department, he has nothing to show for it. He is a somber widower with an estranged son that has spent most of his life at the same bureaucratic job full of paperwork. His dull life is about to come to an end when he receives a diagnosis of stomach cancer and an estimated one year left to live. As death approaches, Mr. Williams realizes he has been dead his whole life and suddenly has a new urgency to help people. One project, in particular, is a children’s playground that before his diagnosis he was a part of its prevention, but now he is determined to force city authorities to build it before his time is up.
Mr. Williams is introduced in the film through the eyes of the new hire, Peter Wakeling. Wakeling has not yet been corrupted by the department’s evading nature. The men he works amongst present themselves in tailored suits with a bowler hats as they sit at their desks surrounded by mountains of paperwork. They spend their days pushing cases to other departments to avoid doing no harm which means they do no good either. The addition to Peter in the story provides Mr, Williams to leave what he realized later in life for Peter to take over. Another young female employee, who leaves before adapting to the soul-crushing nature of the job represents a woman Mr. Williams might have ended up with.
Nighy is commanding in a role that is outcast to his filmography, he comes off as older and weaker than he is in real life. Almost like a statue, he bears the weight of death and fleeting time. The definition of an English man possesses a composed exterior in his three-piece suit but as he learns the news of his cancer, his hard facade cracks. As he cracks, Nighy exudes a mini glow that signals his newfound openness. With his background of not doing much, he doesn’t give the audience a reason to root for him, but small expressions and pondering thoughts allow them to empathize with his situation.
The craftsmanship of the film is gorgeous. From the film’s grainy textured opening credits backed by a graceful score, perfectly captures the aesthetic as if it was made in the 1950s without feeling distracting. The camera work is remarkable in its ability to frame the narrative of Mr. Williams who lives a life of being overlooked that even the camera doesn’t notice him. Jamie D. Ramsay’s cinematography is richly mixed with Sandy Powell’s iconic styling and a melodious score by Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch. All of these elements together create one of the most visually impressive films of the year.
Living transitions from a devastating look at wasted life into a rebirth of inspiration to make the most of the days. While this new direction feels optimistic, reality suddenly hits and Mr. Williams’s days are done. It leaves a moment of self-reflection for its audience to take into their own lives. Building the playground won’t undo all of the moments Mr. Williams has missed, but it changes who he is.