Everytime

TIFF Film #2

How does one process grief in the digital age? When time and memory dissipate and become pixels on a screen that can be accessed from anywhere at any time, were people lost instead become virtual memorials held on hard drives?

Every time attempts to unpack the complexities held within grieving family members and showcases that it's not a linear process, that time can shift and warp these intense feelings.

It is an interesting approach to exploring a subject like this as you feel a distance for a large portion of the film. These characters are more so grieving internally rather than externally. It's a fascinating portrayal of a mother who has clearly numbed herself to what's happened in order to remain composed for her child. It is one of the most fascinating instances of a mother character I've seen in a hot minute. I could understand many finding her cold and unwelcoming, but I find her numbness to be equally, if not more, upsetting. There's a central scene in the film that took me aback whereby the mother expresses blame for a character. It challenges your preconceived notions of motherhood and the expectations of these female figures to be caring and nurturing and omni-loving, but instead in this instance her numbness has sharpened into something cruel. Blame to a person who is also grieving.

The central dynamic between mother and daughter and the lover left behind is fascinating. Each grieving at their own pace, with the boy staying around out of obligation, but perhaps that's shifting as time goes on into companionship as they're the only other people who are able to understand how he feels.

Perhaps most interestingly is how we see the young child in the film grieving. It's not external in the slightest for the most part. There's an awareness that has happened, but it seems quite matter-of-factly. That is until we see this character on her phone where we see her still texting her sister. I find this fascinating because the act of texting her hasn't changed. Just the fact that she doesn't get replies. Technically, she is still enacting the same action of love to her sister, texting her to show that she cares. It's through this character that we get such interesting perspectives on how digitised our memories have become, and how that feels opposed with the process of grief, as there are constant reminders everywhere. It leads us into this bizarre surrealist third act. The really took me by surprise. But after sitting with it, it really feels like it ties it all together in this wonderful way. The interstitials of video games, specifically Minecraft, throughout the movie, we witness the boundaries of reality and fiction begin to blur and cross over and bleed into each other. Suddenly, everything is happening all at once.

Much like a video game, you're able to start over to pick your save points to what you deem to be the most important. Is this trapping us in a perpetual state of grief, unable to move on, or do these memories keep that person alive for longer and lessen the hold grief can have on people? Much to love about this. Not sure everything clicks when this goes into full blown surrealism. But my god, if I wasn't hypnotised by the soft way this goes about exploring different people's grieving processes, shot so dreamy, and the ways that which memory is captured the distilled is so gorgeous