The delicate dance between character emotion and audience empathy is pivotal. Films that master this balance can leave beautiful marks on our hearts, transforming mere viewing into a shared emotional journey. However, “All of Us Strangers,” despite its ambitions, stumbles precisely here, offering a stark lesson in the complexities of crafting empathetic cinema. Although directed by the talented Andrew Haigh, who brought us gems like “45 Years”, his latest seems to be a darling to critics, but not to me.
During a quiet evening in his sparsely populated apartment building in modern London, Adam (played by Andrew Scott) unexpectedly meets Harry (Paul Mescal), a cryptic neighbor, disrupting his daily routine. As they begin to form a bond, Adam becomes haunted by recollections of his past, compelling him to return to the suburban area of his upbringing, and the family home where his parents (portrayed by Claire Foy and Jamie Bell) seem to reside, frozen in time as they were on their last day alive, thirty years ago.
Grief and Loss
“All of Us Strangers” aimed to be a poignant exploration of grief and loss, told through the eyes of Adam, who spends the entirety of the film in a state of tears. This creative choice, intended to underscore the depth of his sorrow, paradoxically becomes the film’s undoing. As an empathetic viewer, I found myself oddly detached, a bystander to grief rather than a participant in it. This reaction underscores a fundamental truth about empathy in storytelling: it requires space for the audience to project their emotions onto the characters.
Participatory vs Observational
The constant display of crying in “All of Us Strangers” leaves little to no room for viewers to insert their emotional experiences into the narrative. Empathy is a two-way street, necessitating a give and take between the screen and the seats. When a character monopolizes the emotional landscape, the dynamic shifts from participatory to observational. This shift is not merely academic; it fundamentally alters the viewer’s experience, transforming potential catharsis into something more akin to watching an experiment unfold — interesting, perhaps, but emotionally sterile.
Authenticity and Empathy
Adam’s perpetual tears challenge the authenticity of the emotional experience. Authenticity in film, much like in life, is nuanced. It’s not merely about the reality of the situation depicted but about the truthfulness of the emotional journey. For empathy to flourish, viewers must believe in the genuineness of what characters feel. However, when emotion is turned to its extreme continuously, it risks becoming performative rather than genuine. This not only disrupts the suspension of disbelief but also impedes the empathetic connection, as viewers struggle to find the emotional truth in a sea of unceasing sorrow.
Projecting Emotion
This is not to say that a character’s visible emotion is unwelcome in cinema. Far from it. Films like “Manchester by the Sea” or “Brødre” showcase characters’ intense emotional states while still leaving room for the audience to bring their feelings and experiences into the narrative. The difference lies in the execution — in allowing moments of silence, reflection, and subtlety to punctuate the emotional journey, inviting viewers to fill these spaces with their empathy and understanding.
Conclusion
“All of Us Strangers” serves as a cautionary tale about the delicate balance required in portraying emotional narratives. It’s a reminder that the most profound connections in cinema often come from what is left unsaid, from the spaces between tears and the quiet moments that invite us to project ourselves onto the screen. In the end, the film’s failure to connect with empathetic viewers like myself isn’t just about the protagonist’s tears; it’s about the absence of a space where our tears could join his.
