How can we reconcile the shadows of our past with the reality of our present? Breathing new life – or, more accurately, new ghosts – into Taichi Yamada’s 1987 novel Strangers, Andrew Haigh’s All of Us Strangers is a haunting meditation on the echoes of the past, exploring love and loss through a melancholy and deeply personal lens.
Screenwriter Adam (Andrew Scott) is incredibly lonely. The frenetic, vibrant backdrop of contemporary London serves as a poignant mirror for his isolation – while the glittering cityscape stretches out ahead of him, Adam only watches on from his high-rise, eerily uninhabited tower block. Disconnected from it all, his only initial companions are his TV, a blank script, and a nostalgic soundtrack of 80s queer pop classics.
The arrival of Harry (Paul Mescal) soon disrupts the solitary rhythm of his existence, appearing at his doorstep with the offer of companionship and Japanese whiskey. Adam initially rejects his advances, having become so accustomed to his own solitude that the thought of allowing someone else in is unimaginable. It is only through interactions with his parents that Adam can begin to grapple with the lingering trauma of his adolescence, finally coming out in his 40s as a gay man and starting to let down his emotional walls to truly allow Harry in. The pair’s connection eventually blossoms into a tentative romance that begins to offer respite from the weight of their shared loneliness, portrayed masterfully by their actors.
Andrew Scott’s performance is a masterclass in emotional nuance, capturing the specificity of queer isolation with a raw authenticity that could have been lost in less talented hands. From the subtle tremor in his voice to the haunted look in his eyes, Scott imbues Adam with a heartbreaking and deeply moving vulnerability. Paul Mescal, adding another role to his repertoire of troubled, introspective characters, delivers a performance that perfectly complements Scott’s Adam. Mescal’s Harry serves as a glimmer of warmth against Adam’s shadowed existence, yet he too carries his own burdens, hinted at through subtle glances and moments of vulnerability. The chemistry between the two incredibly talented actors is palpable, each interaction crackling with a quiet intensity that underscores the unspoken connection between two lonely souls finding hope and solace with one another.
However, this is no straightforward love story or familial drama. Adam’s parents – who we see in the film alive, well, and residing in his childhood home – died in a car crash when he was just 12 years old. Whether ‘All of Us Strangers’ is a magical realist tale, a ghost story, or simply reflects the fragmented psyche of a grieving and emotionally fractured individual is left open to interpretation. What remains unassailable is that this is, above all, a raw meditation on loneliness, exploring the depths of both grief and generational queer trauma. The ambiguity surrounding the film’s narrative allows for a deeply personal experience for the audience, allowing the viewer to project their own perspectives and experiences onto the story. Adding another layer of personal connection, Adam’s parents’ house was in fact filmed in the director Andrew Haigh’s own childhood home. This decision adds a poignant authenticity to the film: by incorporating elements from his own life into the narrative, Haigh infuses his latest work with added emotional depth, creating a film that feels both hauntingly fantastical and achingly familiar.
The craftsmanship on display in ‘All of Us Strangers’ is nothing short of remarkable. From Jamie Ramsay’s evocative cinematography, draping the narrative in an otherworldly neon glow, to the nostalgic score and compelling screenplay, the film is meticulously crafted to immerse viewers in Adam’s lonely and melancholic world. All of the elements of the film blend together seamlessly to create a magically absorbing atmosphere that is guaranteed to stay with the viewer long after its heart-wrenching ending, rendering it entirely worthy of its six BAFTA nominations and array of other accolades. As the final credits roll, we are left contemplating not just Adam’s story, but our own experiences, reminded of the universality of the human longing for connection and the struggle to make peace with the past to make way for a more hopeful present.