A dull film of dull lives. There is no love left in this marriage, which seems merely a matter of custom and convenience, so hollowed-out that it is no surprise that it can't withstand a surprise revelation about Courtenay’s earlier life. Courtenay does a good job of appearing not to notice his wife exists. Filmically, it is dull: the camera just points at people who talk, or not, follows them around the house, follows the car driving dully through dull flat poorly lit landscapes and back again. It is as though the camera too is bored with life. These people are so dull I could not care much what happened to them, which I don’t think was the intention.

If you want a superficial 'flash/bang' movie - this is not for you. This film was slow, a bit like life is for older people with health issues. No wonder Tom Courtnenay remembers his 20s with such secretive delight. Who can imagine this sick man ever being reckless and abandoned? He can. Is it this secret life of wishful abandonment of his decrepit old body that haunts him, and drives his patient and loving wife to query their marriage?

Secrets and deception, but mostly love and faithfulness and the ties that bind us, seemed to me what this slow, frustrating, and haunting film showed me.

A packed Phoenix on a Thursday afternoon, that is quite a feat. Going by the titters, the audience loved it but if you're on the sunny side of 60, the film is a tad uncomfortable. It's too close for comfort - not how I would wish to play out my latter years. The pace of the movie, for my wife, was majestic; for me, tedious, not helped by the odd philosophical clunker in the dialogue. Geraldine James was a magnificent busybody though. I'm sure Tom Courtenay, and Charlotte Rampling acted superbly but I couldn't see it through the continuous melancholy.