Review by
Ren Zelen
Directed by: Harry Macqueen
Starring: Colin Firth, Stanley Tucci, Pippa Heywood, Lori Campbell, Peter
Macqueen
There is no more heartbreaking experience than losing a loved one, but
perhaps the worst way of losing them is to lose them twice over. This is
what dementia means, and it’s one of the hardest experiences people can
have, for those who go through it, and for those who watch them go
through it.
Supernova is a quietly heartfelt and intimate movie from
actor-turned-filmmaker Harry Macqueen, and it boasts two
powerfully affecting performances from Stanley Tucci and
Colin Firth, both at the peak of their form. Firth and the
London-based Tucci are longtime friends and their gentle chemistry comes
across in this film.
Tucci and Firth play Tusker and Sam, a couple who have been together
for two decades: Tusker is a respected novelist and Sam is a composer
and pianist. They have put their careers on hold because Tusker has been
diagnosed with early-onset dementia.
The couple decide to take their camper van for a trip to the Lake
District to have some time together, to drop in on Sam’s sister and her
family, and perhaps, to come to terms with the idea that this trip may
be the last during which Tusker is still himself.
Tusker is ostensibly still working on a new book, but he is more
enthusiastic about gazing into the night sky, pursuing his hobby of
astronomy.
There isn’t much in the way of action in Supernova; their journey is a tour through the stunning mountain scenery of the
Lake District, taking in misty mornings and shimmering water. The trip
is punctuated by visits to family, by conversations, embraces, promises,
sad goodbyes and by a charming exchange where Tucci’s Tusker explains
the wonders of stardust creation to his little niece.
With the amiable demeanour that Tucci is so good at, Tusker describes
the unimaginable vastness of space and the constant cycle of life and
death, including the spectacular death of a star in a Supernova
explosion, after which it sends its matter out into space to create
anew. It’s a beautiful explanation, and perhaps a therapeutic one for
Tusker, who is adjusting to the idea that the profound enigma of death
is imminent.
Mike Leigh’s regular cinematographer Dick Pope finds as much
beauty in the dimly-lit indoor scenes as in the glowing autumnal
landscapes, making the intimate, emotional scenes appear all the more
natural.
The drama arises when, after so many years of mutual harmony, Tusker
and Sam’s individual plans for the future conflict, and they must
confront the question of what it means to love someone in the face of a
tragic illness which will bring an inevitable separation. However, this
is a journey on which there is no going back, nor is it a situation
where a compromise can be reached - events can only move forward, and
someone has to decide how it all ends.
Sam is hurt when he discovers that Tusker has deliberately left behind
the medication that is meant to delay his mental decline, but which
Tusker has decided has little real effect. Instead, he has brought with
him another drug, which will halt his deterioration before it goes any
further, but in the most final way.
The crisis comes as the two must try to openly discuss their individual
feelings. Tusker has made quiet, stoic peace with his fate, and for him
the trip represents the tying up of loose ends in the indeterminate
amount of time he has left. But for Sam it is a struggle to drop his
defence and denial as he clings to the belief that their relationship
will see them through to the end.
Macqueen interestingly builds on the chemistry and established
qualities of his leading men. Tucci and Firth are entirely believable as
a long-term couple, sharing in-jokes, affectionately teasing each other
and reflecting each other’s mannerisms. The two actors seem perfectly at
ease and comfortable. Firth’s Sam displays his English reticence and
inhibition until his fear at being left alone overcomes him. Tucci’s
Tusker is warm, laid-back, amused and playful, which makes the scenes
when he is starkly emotional all the more poignant.
Playing the partner left behind by dementia is a difficult task and
there have been few depictions of the male perspective when placed in
this painfully vulnerable position. In Supernova we come
to understand that dementia brings the only grief that can be shared,
for a time, by those that are dying and by their mourners, and how
problematic and painful that experience is. Tusker voices his dismay at
Sam’s fragile facade, "You're not supposed to mourn somebody when they
are still alive," he gently protests.
Supernova chooses not to portray what it may be
like for the surviving partner to live through the terrible process of
their beloved’s decline, but instead appears to support the decision of
the victim to decide how they wish to deal with their fate. It remains a
beautifully acted and affecting depiction of people having to accept the
inevitable sorrow of mortality.
Supernova is on UK/ROI VOD now.