There are certain subjects that are very difficult to speak about, even when they are built around inevitabilities. In fact, one could argue that the fact that they are universal experiences is precisely what makes them nearly impossible to even begin exploring, since they evoke uncomfortable emotions that most of us would prefer not to feel. However, they’re nonetheless important to discuss, if only for the sake of helping us process difficult feelings, since ignorance doesn’t make them any easier to unpack. The obvious example of this is death – it is something that we are all going to experience in multiple different ways, whether through the knowledge that we are all going to eventually perish, as well as the passing of our loved ones and eventually our own demise. It’s not possible to outrun it, and the only response many feel to be appropriate is to simply not think about it as much as we can. As a result, I’ve always appreciated artists who go out of their way to look at death in its various forms, setting out to explore it from different angles and arrive at their own conclusions, regardless of the challenges that come about in the process. While he has touched on it briefly in the past (most notably in Drive My Car, which explored grief in all of its complexities, sharing some interesting similarities with this film), we see that Ryūsuke Hamaguchi has chosen it as the primary subject for All of a Sudden (Japanese: 急に具合が悪くなる), his extraordinary and moving psychological drama that aims to present an objective but moving depiction of death and the circumstances that surround it through the eyes of two women who view it from very different perspectives. The film follows Marie-Lou, the kind-hearted director of a retirement facility, who has been working to improve the conditions of the elderly residents, particularly those living with dementia, her laborious efforts being around the introduction of the “Humanitude” principle, in which these people are encouraged to be as independent and active as they can be, in the hopes of giving them additional agency that is usually not provided by traditional care, much to the chagrin of her peers who prefer a more conventional style of care. However, despite having the confidence of the people who matter the most (namely her residents), Marie-Lou finds herself going through her own existential concerns, particularly when encountering Mari, a young theatre director from Japan who reveals that she is terminally ill, and that despite being able to live an active life for the time being, her condition could turn on a dime, leading to a very fast decline, after which point she will unfortunately reach her final days. The two women strike up a strong bond, knowing that it is not going to last particularly long, but being the balm the other needed to navigate their own personal challenges, and accompanying each other on an expansive journey through a difficult stage of their respective lives. A beautiful, poetic work from a director who has proven his aptitude at capturing every intricate nuance of existence, All of a Sudden is a major achievement, and a vitally important entry into the ongoing canon of deeply compassionate artistic endeavours.

As difficult as it may be to explore death on screen, this has not stopped it from becoming one of the most popular subjects for artists, since it is within the act of acknowledging the challenges that come with reckoning with maybe the only true inevitability that we will ever have to face that we find so many fascinating attempts to make sense of something that is truly unavoidable. All of a Sudden is a film that decides to approach the subject from an honest and direct place, focusing on exploring the inner existential quandaries of two people who constantly have death on their minds, but for different reasons. Marie-Lou has dedicated herself to a vocation in which all of her clients will inevitably pass away, with her work mainly being to make that journey as comfortable as possible, whereas for Mari, it is her own impending demise that occupies every decision she makes, since even her efforts to hold onto what little bit of life she may have are eclipsed by the knowledge that she is living on borrowed time. These two women approach death from very different perspectives, and the film looks at how they come together to help each other resolve their individual existential quandaries as best as they can. Hamaguchi is not interested in the traditional approach to exploring death, such as through evoking psychological subjects like Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’ Five Stages of Grief (from which nearly every film that centres around death seems to be constructed, to the point where it borders on a cliché by this point, as relevant as her theories may be) or any other formal work. Instead, he is more invested in the philosophical experience, the journey one takes when they come to realise that death is not only inevitable, but also something that needs to be discussed, positing that it isn’t necessarily worth viewing with dread or despair. We don’t often find films that address the concept of dying with this amount of positivity and hope, but it all aligns with Hamaguchi’s idealistic but honest view of life, which is drawn from a desire to celebrate each day on its own terms, viewing the beauty and splendour of life while we remain here. It’s a challenging subject, but one that is beautifully woven together throughout this film, which explores the process of dying – whether the slow, methodical decline that comes with old age, or the more sudden turn for the worse that others tend to experience as a result of disease- contrasting them across from each other in a way that feels honest and direct, choosing to be forthright in what it wanted to say without becoming too dour or depressing, which is quite a tall order for a film about how life is fragile, volatile and can come to a close at any moment.

However, despite being built around the concept of death, we discover that All of a Sudden is a much deeper and far more complex work in terms of the other themes that it sets out to explore, almost to the point where it seems like Hamaguchi is gradually trying to move away from the more downbeat subject matter without actually abandoning it. As is often the case, there are several other themes woven into the fabric of this story, and it’s hardly surprising that the film is as much about the inevitability of death as it is a steadfast celebration of life and the unexpected joys that can come from opening oneself up to new opportunities. There are long passages in this film where we see the day-to-day routines of the two women who anchor this film, whose lives are built around their chosen vocations, both of which can be considered a form of art in their own way. The more obvious approach is in the character of Mari, a young woman who has used the knowledge that her time is limited to express herself through the plays that she stages, working closely with a collaborator and his grandson to explore a subject as intimidating as psychological care and mental disorders (which is what initially inspires the growing friendship between the two leads), which becomes her entry point into reckoning with her own mortality. This is contrasted with Marie-Lou, who may be in a profession that no one would traditionally consider to be inclined towards artistry, but which she nonetheless approaches in the same way, applying a range of theories and experimental approaches to how she runs the facility, focusing less on the impersonal, formal nature of healthcare, and instead embracing something more intimate and personal, and built less from the mind and more from the soul, which sounds hopelessly trite until we actually see just how far the film is willing to examine this premise. In spite of its heavy subject matter, especially since we know where the story will eventually lead, All of a Sudden is a film that veers towards the positive – it may not be the most joyful affair, but there is a profound optimism that lingers throughout the story, showing that there is always room for hope, even when facing something as irreversible as terminal illness. It’s less about dreading the end and more about focusing on making the most of what time is left, which is what truly matters. It’s a profoundly humanistic work, which is perfectly aligned with so much of what we find reflected in Hamaguchi’s films, where the daily struggles faced by ordinary people eventually come to be eclipsed by the quiet joys of simply being alive.

All of a Sudden is the first instance where Hamaguchi ventures outside of his native Japan for the majority of a story (there have been brief sojourns to other countries, such as in the epilogue of Drive My Car), with most of this film taking place around Paris, which represents quite a change for a director who has always been so focused on examining day-to-day life in his native country. We can consider a large part of the reason for this being the result of his desire to work with Virginie Efira, who is quite simply one of the greatest actors working today, someone who has steadily built one of the strongest careers out of any contemporary actor, and who continues to prove herself to be a generational talent. Needless to say, Efira is absolutely transcendent in this film, with her incredible compassion and ability to command the entire screen with something as subtle as a smile or small gesture being the quality that binds this entire film together; her performance is absolutely resplendent and stunning. Throughout the film, Efira demonstrates such a deep and profound understanding of the human condition that we genuinely forget that we are watching an actor perform (its hardly surprising that she has often cited Gena Rowlands as one of her major inspirations, since they are both actors who mastered the art of removing the membrane that divides the actor from the audience), and in a film with a premise that could’ve very easily veered into the melodramatic, it almost feels defiant to find an actor willing to play into the purest, most natural kind of performing – and its doubly impressive when we consider so much of the film is in Japanese, a language she learned specifically for this project. However, a film like All of a Sudden is only going to work when the other half of the central duo is just as strong, and while Tao Okamoto may not have quite as big of a role as Efira (since she essentially just becomes a character in her story without having her own distinct arc), she is able to match her in every place that matters, playing a woman who is coming to terms with the fact that she only has a limited time left, which means that she has to find a way to compress every dream, ambition and desire into a much shorter period, before realising that it is perhaps easier to just let them all go and embrace the unknown as openly as she can. The two actors are astonishing, capturing every detailed nuance of these complex women, and helping realise Hamaguchi’s vision through these dynamic performances that feel so extraordinarily compelling, even at their most intentionally simple and direct.

Running at just under 200 minutes, we certainly do spend a considerable amount of time with the characters in All of a Sudden, which is an exceptionally long film, as is often the case with the director’s work, and while it may not reach the intimidating levels of his masterful Happy Hours (which ran for over five hours), this is still a relatively lengthy work, and when coupled with the challenging subject matter, prospective viewers may be hesitant to embrace something that seems this intimidating. While not a direct adaptation, the film takes its inspiration from You and I – The Illness Suddenly Gets Worse by Makiko Miyano and Maho Isono, a book of correspondence between a terminally ill writer and her friend, in which the subject of life and death was explored extensively. Using this as the foundation, Hamaguchi (as well as Efira and Okamoto, as their collaboration positions them as being partially responsible for some of the film’s most profound ideas) work to create something that feels authentic and real. At no point does this film feel even vaguely melodramatic – there is a lot of sadness that exists, since the story does tackle death in its various forms, but it never feels as if it is veering towards the overwrought, which is quite an achievement for a film with this subject matter. In the hands of a filmmaker without his level of deep understanding of certain complex ideas, there’s no doubt that this story would’ve been hopelessly heavy-handed, a bundle of intense, melodramatic moments that ultimately lack any real cohesion. Instead, we’re given a film that is a delicate, melancholic examination of the narrow boundary between life and death, where the emotions are kept consistently authentic, even at their most seemingly intense. It doesn’t ever feel manipulative, even when it is heading towards the more harrowing conclusion, where all the philosophical pondering that occurred throughout the first two hours finally begins to be used in practice (since Hamaguchi is not interested in just hollow ramblings – every conversation has meaning, even if that only emerges later in the story), becoming the foundation for an enthralling deconstruction of the human mind. It also helps that All of a Sudden is beautifully made – it captures a vision of Paris that is both unique (which is likely the result of the city being filmed by an outsider who still possessed some deep curiosity for this iconic location and its landmarks) and profoundly beautiful, with the vibrant compositions and very distinct approach to bringing it to life on screen making it seem more cinematic than ever before. The same goes for the brief but memorable segments set in the Japanese countryside, where the tranquility of these pastoral surroundings is presented in stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of urban Paris. It all amounts to an extraordinarily striking film, finding so much nuance in areas that a lesser filmmaker would have very easily overlooked.

As we continue to see Hamaguchi move from arthouse auteur to one of the most important voices in contemporary cinema, the more clear it becomes that he is amongst the most compassionate and empathetic of filmmakers working today, someone who can capture the entirety of the human condition, condensing it into a single beautiful, poetic story about friendship, connection and the impossible coincidences that ultimately draw us together, connecting everyone under a shared, common humanity. All of a Sudden is a staggering piece of filmmaking, handcrafted by a filmmaker whose extraordinary skill as both a craftsman and an observer of society is fully on display – how else do we justify a film that is so exceptionally moving and detailed in both scope and intention, setting out to unearth deeper truths about the very essence of being alive, without ever coming across as pretentious or heavy-handed, despite featuring conversations that surround concepts that are far too intimidating to even begin describing. It’s a masterful exploration of the inner architecture of the human soul, using the theme of death as the starting point for a moving, poetic leap into the mind of two women simply attempting to navigate a world that they both seem to think that they understand, until their plans are ultimately derailed by sudden realisations that reveal their already loose grasp on reality is even less secure than they imagined. A film about complex issues that somehow manages to be effortlessly beautiful and profoundly poetic, never veering towards the melodramatic despite so many opportunities to do so; it’s very easy to embrace All of a Sudden as a film that asks the difficult questions, not being afraid to evoke some discomfort, since there is ultimately something much deeper lingering beneath the surface of this film. Anchored by two extraordinary performances that compliment each other brilliantly, and featuring exceptionally strong writing (Hamaguchi is steadily becoming one of the most important writers of his generation, ever word being infused with layers of complexity and pure poetry, which is fascinating for such a starkly realist text) that evokes so much meaning through the simplest and most intimate of cues, All of a Sudden is an extraordinary piece of filmmaking, a sprawling existential odyssey that takes its time and demands the audience’s patience (especially through the lengthy conversations – there are unbroken monologues that last for well over ten minutes scattered throughout the film, showcasing both actors’ incredible skills at commanding the screen), but which ultimately proves to be extremely rewarding, since the time it takes to reach a specific point reveals so much complexity beneath the surface. A staggering and unquestionably powerful work, All of a Sudden is a major achievement and one of the year’s most exquisite, moving testimonies to the beauty of being alive.