Following All of Us Strangers was always going to be a struggle. Andrew Haigh’s last film was one of the great achievements of recent years, both cinematically and in its performances, a work of rare emotional precision that left audiences quietly devastated. Any follow-up would be measured against it, and A Long Winter, which premiered at the Telluride Film Festival, never quite escapes that shadow.
Part of the problem is the source material. Adapted from Colm Tóibín’s 2006 short story, the film feels the need to be longer than its origins warrant. A short story relies on compression, on what is left unsaid, and Haigh’s decision to stretch it to 117 minutes adds rather than deepens. The film does too much story-wise, and the cumulative effect is that the characters stop being believable. What should be an intimate, human drama buckles under the weight of its own plot, with developments that feel designed to keep the film moving rather than to reveal anything true about the people at its centre.
It is also very slow. Slowness is not a flaw in itself, and Haigh has made his name on patient, observant filmmaking. But here the pace tests your patience rather than rewarding it, because the extra story never gives the stillness enough room to work. The quiet stretches feel less like contemplation and more like waiting.
It’s a shame, because there is a great deal to admire, starting with the cast. The performances are genuinely strong across the board. Fred Hechinger stands out as Mike, a young man struggling with inner doubt and his own sexuality, and Ebon Moss-Bachrach is superb as his father, Lester, a stubborn, taciturn man whose wife blames him for bringing her to a remote part of Colorado, where she feels detached from everything and everyone. Caitríona Balfe plays Louise, Mike’s mother, a troubled woman who sits at the centre of the film’s mystery. With a supporting cast that also includes Kit Connor, Martin Freeman and D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai, the film never lacks talent. Visually, the film is a triumph. André Turpin’s cinematography is stunning and often the most compelling thing on screen, giving even the weaker stretches a haunting, wintry beauty that fits the title. It is the one element that consistently matches the standard of Haigh’s best work.
The problem is that there is a bit too much story, and yet very little actually happens. The film keeps introducing new threads and developments, but few of them move the characters anywhere, so the drama feels busy without ever building. Where the performances tip toward melodrama, it’s because the material asks them to carry more than it has earned. The best moments are the restrained ones, and I wish there were more
In the end, A Long Winter is a film of fine parts that don’t quite add up. Beautiful images and committed actors can’t fully make up for a story that overreaches and a running time that outstays its welcome. It’s worth seeing for the cast alone, but it falls short of the standard Haigh has set for himself.
