If you look closely, you’ll see writer/director Andrew Haigh hidden in plain sight throughout the melancholic romantic drama, All Of Us Strangers. Loosely adapted from the Japanese ghost story Strangers, written by Taichi Yamada in 1987, Haigh infuses chapters from his own life story into this mesmerizing tale of love, loss, and second chances. His personal connection to the material makes the film feel that much more fragile; Haigh’s finely tuned singular experience doesn’t omit his audience but rather, it creates a universal resonance where audiences can see themselves reflected in the film too.

Adam (Andrew Scott) lives a quiet (albeit, seemingly lonely) life as a queer screenwriter living in an apartment tower in contemporary London. The film opens with a gorgeous skyline shot of a blood-orange sun, marking the end of another unproductive day for Adam. His recent attempt to put pen to paper on his latest screenplay is coming up fruitless. He moves apathetically, going through the motions of the evening until an interruption by his mysterious neighbor, Harry (Paul Mescal). Harry is a charmer and unabashedly flirtatious. In a bold move for this near-stranger, Harry invites himself inside Adam’s apartment and subsequently proceeds to pierce a hole in Adam’s self-protective armor. This is jarring for Adam since he has lived his life in subdued modesty but sensing the start of a personal evolution, he embraces Harry and the unknown.

As Harry begins chipping away at Adam’s tough exterior, offering him the space to feel safe exploring a relationship with a man, another revelation is on the horizon for Adam. Looking for inspiration for his script, Adam turns to old photos from his childhood. This walk down memory lane triggers something internal and Adam is inexplicably drawn to make a pilgrimage to his childhood home where he lived with his mum and dad (Claire Foy and Jamie Bell) before their sudden deaths. Adam was only 12 years old when his parents died in a car crash over the Christmas holiday, and since then, he has learned to cope by pushing down any emotions surrounding their existence. As he reaches the house, a flood of visceral memories come rushing back as Adam sees his parents standing before him, just as they looked 30 years ago. Is this a dream? It must be, but it feels very real to Adam. Regardless, this surreal experience gives everyone–dad, mum, and child–the opportunity to finally have proper closure and a final goodbye.

The fragility that stems from an adult man reckoning with childhood trauma is a devastatingly cathartic experience to witness. Andrew Scott was born to embody the role of Adam, his nuanced mannerisms and sensational performance are heartbreaking as we see a scared boy hiding inside a grown man. Scott plays Adam’s vulnerability journey with such a dynamic range–he starts off fairly constricted and uncomfortable but over the course of the 105-minute runtime, he is exploring a cacophony of emotions. Acting opposite Scott is Paul Mescal’s Harry, a good-natured free spirit who wears his heart on his sleeve. Their dynamic is raw, at times fraught with miscommunications, but at the foundation is an acceptance that we would be lucky to be immersed in.

Haigh captures the tone of All of Us Strangers through the use of 35mm film to evoke the “texture” of memory. This analog vessel is an embodiment of the time period as well as the sentiment that memories, much like the physical element of film, can fade or become distorted with time. Aiding in the tonal aesthetic is the subtle yet enriching score by French pianist Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch. Her compositions turn feelings of detachment and catharsis into auditory sensations and offer a beautiful finishing touch.

There is a quote I heard recently that reads, “Be nicer to your parents, it’s their first time experiencing the world too.” I couldn’t stop thinking about that as I was watching All of Us Strangers. Haigh’s emphasis on connection and the complicated human experience, set against a mesmerizing, reality-bending backdrop, is a visual and sensational knockout. At its core, All of Us Strangers is a devastating tale of navigating through grief, and while heartache never feels great, the ability to experience such an emotion is a testament to being alive, which is always something worth being grateful for.

This review is part of our AFI FEST 2023 coverage.