Well well, if it isn’t the emotionally intelligent, compassionate and relatable version of Eat, Pray, Love…
And brought to us by accomplished cinematographer Rachel Morrison – and I mean accomplished, as she has some of my favourites under her belt: Fruitvale Station, Dope, Black Panther, and Mudbound, to name a few.
I wouldn’t usually think that having a feature film (her sophomore entry, after The Fire Inside, which just got watchlisted on my end) from a director of photography would really make much of a difference… but then there’s this still of the highly photogenic Margaret Qualley up on screen and that still of her expression just in an ordinary, everyday setting is so beautiful and real-time iconic that I felt the urge to grab my phone and take a snap of the big screen. Of course I didn’t (!) and I wouldn’t have even if I wasn’t in a packed premiere at TIFF, but this is one of the very few times among the thousands of times I’ve been in the cinema that I wanted to do this, send the snapped still to my loved one, caption it “this is where I am right now”, and let them know I am doing just fine in that moment.
I’m a huge proponent when it comes to plot, dialogue, story and vibes, but I often forget that none of that matters if you haven’t captured it clearly and brightly, and hopefully with a little flair. Although the expression “the cinematography was good” or “it looked good” are the most polite ways to say a movie sucked – something we might equally say about a film from a cinematographer-turned-director or multi-hyphenate here – I luckily don’t have to sugar-coat or lie about anything in this case; all of my most valued elements (script, characters, narrative) solidly underlie each stunning shot.
And maybe they were always there and I didn’t notice them before, but after seeing the [for shame] straight-to-streaming latest Bridget Jones installment, and how it’s such a mature romantic dramedy, that, in one’s 30s or 40s, our longtime friends and found family, and other things, places and people we’ve come to love, finally get their due recognition. There are so many young-and-hot romantic comedies, in which the happy ending is where the two end up together… and naively we’re left to assume that it’s forever, even given how young they are, and in this modern world. There are also geriatric romcoms, too, but their forever is a lot less time so we’re just happy they’ve got someone for what time they have left.
And I don’t know how popular this subgenre would be, but I love the depictions of first real romance found later in life. The two-way one. The reciprocated one. The one devoid of grooming or a grocery list of expectations and accommodations to suit at least one side. Yet still one where both know their likes and dislikes, their do’s and don’ts, the weight of the emotional baggage they carry… and yet their broken and uneven pieces fit together to make a whole. These later-found loves do exist; one of my most charming best friends only had his first “real” long-term relationship started at age 37 – despite dating hundreds of people beforehand – and one of my most intelligent professor friends over in Europe is downright giddy about finding true love in his 50s – after having done the whole marriage and kids thing in the decades before. Watching all of the young, hip and flippant Netflix-destined romcoms might cause us to be pessimistic about our own chances, whereas these great loves can, and do, happen, and better late than never.
Let’s break down my opening line here, as Love of Your Life being an elevated alternative to Eat, Pray, Love… and I would advocate for it being a replacement. Unlike the latter with its one-dimensional domestic dudebros (sorry Billy Crudup, it’s not your fault!) or alluring himbos at every destination, the men and women in Morrison’s take are all fleshed-out and nuanced – there are no shallow stereotypes nor are there any true antagonists. The hard conversations are not omitted so we can simply go on a fling, an easy vacation and international bender with Maya… when they force their hand, they’re both pivotal and healing. That exchange between her mother-in-law (Catherine Keener) and her just wrecked me – what a gut punch.
The title of this film has a double meaning depending on how you emphasize the words. On one hand, it’s the typical romantic “love of your life”, as in your soulmate, your partner, the great love you finally found. On the other hand, we come to find out it means the “love of YOUR LIFE”, as in your own life is so wondrous and worthy that you can very well enjoy it without that special someone, and all on your own. To love life for its and your own sake.
Both loves are vitally important.
As an extrovert with an anxious-avoidant attachment style, I can identify with Qualley’s hard-working and hyperindependent singleton, and the life she leads until she meets the great man she never expected to find. When I see her expressions of joy and wonderment while saying her vows and genuinely exclaiming how she doesn’t even understand how she lucked out, I get it – it’s really hard for people like me (or maybe you) to imagine arriving at a day like that.
And then we instinctively tense up, because, the movie is only halfway through. As they enter the pandemic era – a universally relatable collective trauma for which we all have our own stories – we brace ourselves for the rest of the runtime. In those pivotal moments, all you might be thinking is to hug your loved ones the moment you get home to them, or hold some part of them if they’re next to you.
But life goes on, before and after that connection with the person who defines so much of your life… but not all of it. When I was estranged from my mother for a few years – thankfully now we’ve reconnected – I had lost the person whose opinion and presence I had valued most in this world, and she was one of the few I loved freely.
My therapist asked me who would replace my mother as my personal anchor, and I decided after much thought and anguish that my anchor would be life itself: all of the arts, discovery, nature and places that brought me joy and relief every day I experienced them, and the ongoing curiosity of which of life’s new loves I might find in the coming days, weeks or years. My therapist thought this was a profound concept, since not many people choose this. But you know what, I’m not the only one to figure this out.
Qualley and Julia Cox’s wisened script guides their protagonist Maya into such an epiphany, that with or without that special someone, one’s life should be appreciated and full. Self-help books and cheesy Facebook shares have been saying this for years, but you really should love yourself first and lead a full life before you merge your life with someone else’s; your half must be substantial if you are together to become truly whole.
Love of Your Life reminds us to love our life before and after we’re with the love of our lives, if we get so lucky. And if we get so lucky, to love every minute of that love, too, and really live in those moments.
And long live mature romantic epics, in which love in its many different forms, can thankfully exist in every era.
Amazon MGM will release Love of Your Life in select theaters on October 7th before moving to Prime Video on October 14th.
